by Al Lacy
Tag frowned. “Lots of men with a bullet in them have been close to death, but good doctors have been able to save them. I think he saw a chance to rid the world of an outlaw.”
Doke didn’t like the look in Tag’s eyes. “I—I really don’t see it that way, Tag.”
The frown deepened. “What’s his name? Wayne Brogan? Something like that.”
“Dane Logan. Dr. Dane Logan.”
“Oh yeah. Dane Logan. I won’t forget it again. I think Darryl would still be alive right now if Logan hadn’t asked you about the circumstances when he was shot.”
Doke’s face pinched. “Tag, I hope you understand why I had to tell Dr. Logan that Darryl was shot while holding up the stage. If I’d lied about how Darryl was shot, and for some reason the doctor called in the law to investigate, I could have been found a liar. This could have led to an investigation that might prove that the Moran brothers and I grew up together in Scottsbluff. You remember I told you I didn’t let the doctor know that I knew Darryl.”
“Yeah. I’m not blaming you for anything, Doke. It means a lot to me that you tried to save his life.”
“Right,” spoke up Bart. “We really appreciate it.”
Jason smiled. “We sure do, Doke. And let me say, it sure is good to see you again. Boy, were we surprised when we stopped that stage and saw you sitting up there in the shotgunner’s seat.”
Tag laughed. “That’s for sure!” He leaned his elbows on the table and looked Doke in the eye. “Did your driver give you a problem when you said you wanted to pick up that wounded outlaw and take him to a doctor?”
Doke shook his head. “No. The passenger who shot Darryl wanted to just let him lie there and die, but the driver went along with me wanting to take Darryl’s horse and get him to a doctor in Cheyenne. He told me to go ahead and do it.”
There was a quiet moment. Kathryn broke the silence by saying, “Doke, Tag has told us a little bit about saving your life when you were both just boys. We’re about finished with lunch here, but after lunch, will you tell us about it?”
Doke grinned, looked at Tag, then back at Kathryn. “Sure. I’ll tell you all about it.”
After lunch, Lucinda and Kathryn told the men they would do the dishes after they had heard Doke’s story, and everyone gathered in the parlor and sat down.
As requested, Doke told the story so Kathryn, Lucinda, Gib, and Tony could hear the details of how Tag saved his life at the North Platte River when they were teenagers.
When he finished, Doke said, “So you can understand how I feel about Tag. He risked his life to save mine in that debris-filled river.” He blinked at the excess moisture gathering in his eyes and cleared his throat. “I owe my life to Tag. I will always be his friend.”
Kathryn stood up. “That’s quite a story, Doke. Well, Lucinda, the dirty dishes await us.”
The women excused themselves and headed for the kitchen.
Doke looked at Tag, then ran his gaze over the faces of the other men. “I’ve read about you guys and your bank robberies in the newspapers. I know there are lawmen all over these parts who would love to catch you and put you in prison. How is it that you are able to evade the law when you’ve had so many posses on your trail after you’ve held up bank after bank?”
Tag grinned at him. “Well, Doke ol’ pal, the main reason we established our hideout high up here in the Rockies is because it’s so much harder to track us in the mountains. If we were hiding out somewhere on the plains, it would be much simpler to catch us. Some other time, I’ll tell how we found this old cabin and claimed it for ourselves. Anyway, you noticed in your ride up here that there are many streams flowing down the mountains.”
“That’s for sure.”
“Well, when we’re running from a posse, we take advantage of those numerous streams by riding our horses in them. None of them are more than four feet deep.” He paused. “I’m not talking about the Cache La Poudre River. In some places, it’s ten and twelve feet deep. I mean those small streams.”
Doke nodded.
“You see, Doke,” Tag went on, “there is no way to track someone who’s riding his horse in a stream. So we ride those streams. We always find a rocky place to enter them, so the horses leave no tracks. When we come out of the streams, usually after several miles, we always pick a rocky place to do it.”
Doke nodded. “Smart.”
“Yeah,” put in Jason, “and often we switch streams to further throw those relentless posses off. This makes it virtually impossible for the law to find us.”
Doke shook his head in wonderment. “That’s good thinking, guys. I hope they never catch you.”
Tag set his gaze on Doke. “Tell you what, my friend, I think it’s time for you and me to have that private talk I told you about.”
“Sure,” said Doke, slipping his pocket watch from his vest pocket. He glanced at it and put it back. “I have to leave by around four o’clock and head back to Fort Collins so I can get a good night’s rest. I have to be at the Wells Fargo office early in the morning. My stage will be heading north just after sunup. Four o’clock will give us enough time, won’t it?”
“Sure,” said Tag, rising to his feet. “Let’s put on our jackets and go outside. We’ll talk out there on the porch.”
Moments later, the two friends sat down on wooden chairs on the front porch. The late September breeze made them button their jackets all the way to their necks. The roar of the river below filled the clear mountain air.
Tag adjusted his chair so he could look at Doke, then leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “As you know, we really made a good haul when we robbed your stage of that cash box from the Fort Collins bank.”
“Yeah. Fifty thousand.”
“We like that kind of money, Doke. I understand Wells Fargo carries those cash boxes quite often for the banks.”
Doke nodded, feeling a tightness forming in his chest.
“I won’t tell you how I found out about the fifty thousand you were carrying that day, Doke, but I got to thinking about it. As shotgunner, you always know when you’re going to have a cash box, don’t you?”
Doke’s mouth was going dry. “Well, yeah.”
“How about we work out a way you can let us know in advance? We’ll rob the stage, and we’ll give you a cut of the take. Nobody ever has to know that you’re the one who gives us the information.”
Doke looked around, his mind racing. The pressure he was feeling from Tag made his flesh crawl. “Tag, I’d like to help you because of what you did for me that day at the North Platte River. But—but—”
Tag’s brow furrowed. “But what?”
Doke took a deep breath. His voice came out in a quiver. “Tag, the people at Wells Fargo have been very good to me. I—I have a sense of loyalty to them like I have toward you in a different way. I—I just can’t do it to them. Whenever they are robbed of a cash box, just like when you and your gang robbed my stage, Wells Fargo has to make it up to the banks. They trust me. I just can’t betray that trust. Do you understand?”
Tag Moran studied his old friend’s nervous features for a long moment, then eased back on the chair. “Yeah. I understand. I’m an outlaw, Doke, but I still have to admire a man who has principles about him.” He extended his open right hand. When Doke took it and they gripped one another’s hands, Tag said, “Still friends?”
A grin curved Doke’s mouth. “You bet. Still friends.”
Tag stood up, pulled a pocket watch from his pants pocket, and looked at it. “It’ll be four o’clock in twenty minutes. Let’s go back inside for a few minutes, okay?”
“Sure.”
When they entered the parlor, Lucinda and Kathryn had returned from the kitchen.
Jason looked up from his chair and smiled. “Well, Tag, did you two get whatever it was all talked out?”
Tag nodded. “We did. As Doke told us earlier, he has to leave by four o’clock. Anything else you want to say to him, Jason? Bart?”
&n
bsp; Everyone stood up.
“Just that it sure was good seeing you, ol’ pal,” said Bart.
They shook hands, then Jason stuck out his hand. “Come back and see us again, okay?”
“Sure,” said Doke as they shook hands. He ran his gaze over the other faces, then looked at Tag. “I’ll say it again. I hope the law never catches up to you.”
Kathryn was standing next to her husband. She smiled at Doke. “I hope they don’t either.”
Gib took hold of her hand and squeezed it.
Everyone put on jackets so they could walk Doke out to his horse. As they stepped out onto the porch, Tag laid a hand on Doke’s shoulder.
“Like Jason said, Doke, come back and see us again.”
“I’ll do it, Tag.”
With that, Doke moved down the porch steps, untied his horse, and swung into the saddle. He smiled, gave a wave, wheeled the horse about, and rode down the steep slope through the trees. Everyone called out their good-byes. Doke turned around in the saddle and gave them a friendly wave.
Seconds later, he and his horse passed from view.
As Lucinda held her gaze on the spot where Doke was last seen, a cold dread took hold of her heart. She looked at Tag. “What’s to keep some lawman from following him up here?”
Tag’s brow furrowed. “No one even suspects that he knows us, so why would they follow him?”
Lucinda shrugged, a worried frown creasing her brow. “I don’t know. I only know I have a strong, uneasy feeling about him. Maybe you shouldn’t be so open with him about things, Tag.”
Bart took hold of her hand. “You worry too much, sweetheart. Doke isn’t going to do anything to bring harm to the man who saved his life. His loyalty to Tag is steadfast and strong.”
Lucinda shrugged her shoulders again. “I hope you’re right about him. All I can do is tell you how I feel.”
Kathryn shivered and rubbed her hands together. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but with that sun going down behind those peaks over there, this breeze is getting colder. I’m going inside.”
“Us boys are gonna go feed and water the horses,” said Tag. “You ladies go back in the cabin.”
As Lucinda moved inside on Kathryn’s heels, a heaviness about Doke Veatch still pervaded her senses.
While the men were walking around the side of the cabin toward the barn, Jason said, “Tag, I wish we could invite Doke to join the gang, but I have a feeling he would never become an outlaw.”
“I agree,” said Tag. “He just isn’t the type.”
As Doke Veatch rode down the steep slopes of the mountains along the bank of the Cache La Poudre River toward Fort Collins, he let his eyes roam about him, taking in the beauty of the Rockies. All around him lay a vast sweep of towering peaks and sunken gorges. The peaks were timber-clad up to timberline, which in the Rockies was about 11,200 feet. Above that rose the jagged peaks of rock that reached toward the sky.
A magnificent golden light showed upon the western firmament—the afterglow of sunset. The highest peaks wore crowns of gold. All the lower tips of ranges were purpling in shadow. The marvelous light from the setting sun magnified the rocky cliffs on every side, and the winding ranges took on a look of unreality.
Doke lowered his gaze down along the bank of the foamy river and put his mind back on Tag Moran and his gang. He wondered actually how long they could elude the law. It seemed to him that sooner or later, some posse would finally catch up to them, and they would end up behind bars for a long stretch. He shook his head and told himself if he had the opportunity to gain a million dollars by being an outlaw and robber, it wouldn’t be worth the risk of getting caught and going to prison for it.
Suddenly the gelding stopped, bobbed his head, and stared across the river. Doke looked to the opposite bank and saw two male mountain lions staring at him and snarling. He shivered as he peered into their eyes. “Boys, I’m sure glad you’re on that side of the river. I wouldn’t want to tangle with you, and neither would this horse.”
Doke urged the gelding onward, and soon they were out of sight from the cougars. He put his mind on his job with the Wells Fargo Stagelines and concentrated on getting back to Fort Collins.
In Denver, at Mile High Hospital, Tharyn Tabor was assisting Dr. Lyle Goodwin in an appendectomy on a ten-year-old boy.
When they had finished and were in the surgical washroom cleaning up, a nurse came in. “Tharyn, a certain handsome young man is here to see you. He’s just outside the door.” She giggled. “I think you might know him.”
Tharyn’s heart leaped in her chest. Scott’s train from Pueblo was due to arrive at Denver’s Union Station some thirty minutes ago. She had had a hard time concentrating on her work, knowing he no doubt would stop by the hospital to see her before he went home.
She smiled at the nurse. “Alice, do his initials happen to be S. H.?”
Alice giggled again. “How’d you guess?”
“Oh, I’m just so supremely intelligent!”
“I’m sure Dr. Goodwin will agree with that!”
“Absolutely!” said the silver-haired physician, while drying his hands on a towel.
“What can I say? Tell Scott I’ll be out in just a few minutes.”
“Will do,” said Alice, and moved out the door.
Dr. Goodwin dropped the towel in a basket provided for used linens and looked at Tharyn. “Do you think Scott is going to propose to you soon?”
She smiled. “It just might happen tonight.”
She then looked at her reflection in the mirror, dabbed at her hair to make it just right, and headed for the door. “I’ll see you later, Dr. Goodwin.” With that, she opened the door and stepped out into the corridor.
The instant Tharyn closed the door behind her and caught sight of Scott, she sensed that something was amiss. There was a strange look in his eyes, and she could tell he had been raking his fingers through his unruly hair.
He pressed a smile on his lips and stepped up to her. “Hello, Tharyn.”
“Hello, Scott. I’m glad to see you back.”
Tharyn started to lift her arms to embrace him, but at the same moment, two nurses came walking by. The nurses smiled at the young couple and kept their attention on them, though keeping their stride. Tharyn took a step back. Showing affection for the man whom she was sure was about to become her fiancé was a private matter. She didn’t want a gawking audience.
A few seconds passed. Though the nurses now were no longer looking at them, Scott made no move to embrace her, which was unusual for him.
When the nurses were farther yet down the corridor, Tharyn looked deeply into Scott’s eyes, moved close to him again, and took hold of his hand. “Scott, is something wrong?”
Scott was about to reply when Dr. Albert Parker—who was one of the hospital’s prominent surgeons—rushed up. “Tharyn, we have an emergency. Dr. Goodwin just told me that you’re free right now, as far as he knows. I must do a lithotomy on a very sick woman. I need your help immediately. All the other surgical nurses are busy. Can you help me?”
“Of course, Doctor.” Looking at Scott, Tharyn said, “I’m sorry, but I must go with Dr. Parker right now.” She noticed a look of relief come over his face.
“It’s all right, Tharyn. I understand.”
“Can you come to the house and see me this evening?”
Scott nodded. “I’d take you out to dinner, but I have some things to do right away. I’ll be tied up till about seven-thirty. I’ll come as soon as I can. Probably by eight o’clock.”
“All right. I’ll be watching for you.”
As Tharyn hurried away with Dr. Parker, she was puzzled by Scott’s demeanor. Not only was there a strange look in his eyes, but his voice also told her something was wrong.
Dr. Parker and Tharyn were soon in one of the surgical rooms hovering over a woman in her early fifties who was suffering severely with a bladder stone. The doctor discussed the impending operation with the patient and learned that thi
s would be her first surgery ever.
While Dr. Parker made preparations to perform the lithotomy, Tharyn poured ether into a cloth and said to the patient, “Mrs. Kraft, I know you’ve never had surgery before, so you’ve never had an anesthetic. Listen to me now. It will seem like I’m smothering you when I place this cloth over your face. Don’t let it frighten you. Just inhale the fumes as quickly as you can, and you’ll be under the anesthetic in no time. When you come to, it’ll all be over.”
Helen Kraft looked up at her with pain-filled eyes and nodded slightly. “You’re so sweet, dear,” she said weakly. “You’re a born nurse. God bless you.”
Tharyn smiled down at her. “God bless you too, ma’am. Here comes the ether.”
She pressed the moist cloth to the patient’s nose and mouth and held it there.
Helen fought it, gasping for breath.
“Don’t be afraid,” Tharyn said softly. “You’ll be fine. Just breathe in the fumes deeply.”
Helen closed her eyes and did as instructed. In less than two minutes, she relaxed and went limp.
The surgeon was ready to begin, holding the scalpel close to the skin.
Tharyn bent low over the woman, lifted an eyelid, and studied the pupil and the iris. “She’s completely under, Doctor.”
The doctor nodded and went to work to remove the bladder stone. While Tharyn was wiping blood away from the incision and periodically applying more ether to keep the patient under, her mind went to Scott. She wondered if a problem had developed between him and his parents. Or was it possible that one of them was seriously ill? Or—Well, it could be one of many things. I’ll just have to wait until this evening to find out.
At Denver’s First National Bank, President David Tabor was at his desk in the enclosed area at the rear of the building, talking to a customer.
The area had a waist-high wooden fence around it, and two swinging gates to allow employees and customers to enter and exit the area. There were three other desks in the enclosed area. Two were occupied by vice presidents, and the third was occupied by middle-aged Arla Yunker, who served as secretary to all three executives.
Tabor also had a private office adjacent to the enclosed area where he could meet with employees and customers when their business required privacy. Besides his desk in that office, there was also a large table where he held regular meetings with the bank directors.