Softly, he went down the ladder and tiptoe d along the drift.
Far down the tunnel he could see two bobbin g lights. After waiting until they disappeared, h e crept forward. With gun in hand, h e deliberately looked toward the cross-cut wher e he had seen the rifle muzzle. It was gone.
Scrambling up the pile of muck, he peere d over behind it. There was a snug nest among th e rocky debris that had been pitched into th e tunnel, and scattered here and there among the rock s were crumbs and bits of food. Someone had bee n waiting here for quite some time; perhaps, by the look of th e place, for days or even weeks.
Where had this person gone? Had he slippe d away down the drift while Ben Stowe talke d to Laine? It seemed to be the only explanation , for if the heavy door had been opened it woul d surely have made some sound, or some change in th e draught of air moving through the mine.
At the opening of the tunnel, his light snubbe d out, Mike Shevlin paused and waited, listening , but he heard no sound.
He stepped outside, and not until he was besid e his horse did he allow himself to take a long , deep breath of the clean, fresh air. It was goo d to be alive ... very good indeed.
And then he thought of Laine Tennison. Be n Stowe was a sharp customer ... how long would he b e fooled? Or was he fooled at all?
Perhaps even now ...
Chapter 16
Mike Shevlin checked his Winchester and shove d it down in the boot. Then he started his hors e down the canyon. He was thinking that the man behind tha t muck pile in the cross-cut must have been Bur t Parry. Not a word had passed between him and Be n Stowe ... did Stowe know he was there?
And then Shevlin went on to think of his rea l problem. How could he get the gold from behind tha t door? First, he would have to get rid of Bur t Parry, somehow; and if Parry had been chose n to guard that gold he must be a more salty custome r than he appeared to be.
With Parry out of the way, the door would have to b e blasted open, or cut open with an axe ... an d then what? A half-million in gold, if that wa s what there was in there, is not a matter to be handled wit h ease. Gold is heavy, and a half-millio n isn't something you put in your pocket.
Darkness was upon him now; the stars came out, and a low wind blew from off the sagebrush levels wher e the cattle grazed. Somewhere ahead of him wer e Laine Tennison and Ben Stowe.
Eve Bancroft, Gib Gentry, and Lo n Court were dead, all killed since he ha d arrived in town, and yet the problem of the gold wa s no nearer a solution. Ben Stowe still sa t snugly in his office, surrounded by his miners , who were gunfighters.
And back of all this was the major mystery: Wh o had killed Eli Patterson?
Lights were shining in the windows when Shevli n rode into town. He sta4 his horse, and starte d over to the Bon Ton. He was dead-tired, an d hungry. No matter what, he was going to ea t now, and then he was going to his room in th e Nevada House and get some sleep.
He got to the boardwalk and started toward th e door of the restaurant, when it opened suddenly an d Burt Parry stepped out. When he saw Shevli n his face seemed to stiffen.
"You! Shevlin!" His voice was brusque, an d even as he spoke he was putting his hand in his ves t pocket.
He held out several coins to Shevlin. "You r wages. I'm going to quit the claim."
Before Mike could speak he turned his back o n him and strode away, walking swiftly.
Puzzled, Shevlin opened the restauran t door and stepped inside. Tom Haye s was there, a man whom he knew by sight, and at a table in the far corner sat Clagg Merriam.
Merriam glanced up, but looked away quickly.
Mike Shevlin ordered his meal, an d gratefully drank his coffee. It was hot , black, and strong. Suddenly the door opened an d Ben Stowe came in. He shot a glance a t Merriam, then went over to where Tom Haye s sat.
"I didn't know you and Doc Clagg were suc h friends, Tom," Stowe said quietly. "Heard yo u were seeing him today. Or are you sick?"
"Poorly." Hayes's face was haggard.
"I been feelin' poorly."
"Too bad. I figured it was something like that.
Well, what else can you expect? A docto r is usually dealing with people who live unhealth y lives." Stowe slapped Hayes heavily on th e back. "Don't worry about it, Ben. What's a little stomach-ache when so many people are dying?"
Ben Stowe's eyes shifted to Mike Shevlin , and he crossed over to his table. "Mind if I s it down, Mike?" he said genially.
Hayes got up and left the restauran t hurriedly, and Stowe looked after him, contempt i n his eyes.
When he was seated, Stowe took out tw o cigars, held out one to Shevlin and lighted the othe r for himself.
"Mike," he said, "I've been giving it som e thought. We were pretty close in the old days, yo u and me, and with Gib gone I'm going to need a man." His voice lowered. "I'm going to need a man who has guts and a gun. But one who won't stampede."
"You're talking," Shevlin said. He was s o tired that he felt he could hardly keep his eye s open.
"I figure a man can always use some money , and you were one who could take it when the chance offered.
What would you say to stepping into Gib's shoes a t the express company?"
Their voices were so low that it would not have bee n possible for anyone else to hear them. The offe r seemed to be dropped casually by Stowe, but h e added, almost as an afterthought, "There would be a tid y bit coming after this is all over. Gib worked for it , but now he won't be with us, so why shouldn't you pic k up where he left off?"
"I wouldn't want to end up lik e Gentry did, Ben."
Stowe brushed off the suggestion with a wave of th e cigar-holding hand. "You can take care of yourself.
Anyway, I need you. I needed Gib, for tha t matter. His getting shot was all a mistake."
Shevlin looked up at Stowe. "You'r e damn' right it was, and I know just what kind of a mistake."
Ben Stowe chuckled. "Figured you did. Bu t look, Mike, we're playing for big mone y here. You can't blame a man for covering all th e angles. Now with Gib gone, things are different.
I need you. Gib's end could have come to that freigh t line, plus half a million dollars ... h alf a million dollars, Mike! Ho w long is it going to take you to make that much money?"
Mike Shevlin was thoroughly awake now. "Jus t what has to be done to make that kind of money?" h e asked.
Stowe held his cigar in his hand. "Mike , I'm going to level with you. After all, you've bee n up the creek and over the mountain, and you can rea d sign as well as the next man. I nee d somebody to handle some freight shipments, somebod y tough enough to take those shipments through--regardless o f what happens."
"You think I can do it?"
"Like nobody else. Better than Gib , even."
"Do you think somebody will try to stop a shipment?"
Stowe leaned his big forearms on the table.
"You're damn' tootin', I do. Where do you thin k Ray Hollister is right now?"
Weariness was creeping over him, but he forced hi s mind to consider Stowe's offer, an offer s o astonishing he could scarcely believe it. Th e gold was to be placed right in his hands. He wouldn't have to look for it; he would have it in his charge--but unde r the suspicious guns of Ben's gunmen.
Half a million dollars ... that would b e better than ten per cent of half a million.
Undoubtedly some would be in cash; the rest of th e half-million to come from later mining.
He would be a rich man, free to do as h e chose, and no strings attached. Of course, Be n Stowe planned to have him killed, but two could pla y at this game. Suppose he killed Ben Stowe?
He would have all the gold for himself.
He looked at Stowe. "Ben, i t sounds like a good deal. You let me sleep o n it."
He got up from the table and went towards th e door, where he paused a moment. "After all, wher e else would I get a chance at that much money?"
After he had gone, Stowe stared at the door , an ugly look in his eyes. "He's lyi
ng," h e said; "that two-by-four gunfighter is lying. He thinks he can outfigure me. Well, I'll sho w him ... but first, he'll take that gold out fo r me."
He spoke aloud, but not loudly enough to be hear d by either Clagg Merriam or the waitress. He sat there alone for several minutes, studying th e case in all its aspects. He could find n o alternative. Hollister was out there somewhere, and h e was the kind who would have to be killed, sooner o r later. Hollister never knew when he was whipped , or when he had no chance of winning. Moreover , Hollister, fool that he was in persona l relations, was shrewd enough when it came to figuring th e angles; and Babcock was with him.
If there was a man in the Rafter country wh o could outguess Hollister, it was Mike Shevlin.
And then he would, personally, kill Shevlin.
The thought gave Stowe a sudden dee p satisfaction. He realized that he hate d Shevlin, and, come to think of it, he always had.
Mike Shevlin was the only one who had neve r accepted his leadership. Gib Gentry had bee n ready enough, but not Shevlin.
A shadow loomed beside his table. He tilted hi s head back and looked up into the hard but handsom e face of Merriam.
"Hello, Clagg. Sit down."
Merriam remained standing. "You're taking a long chance, Ben." Merriam's voice was even.
"Shevlin's got only one thing on his mind. He wants the man who killed Patterson."
Ben Stowe shrugged, his face unreadable. "So?
We need Shevlin--we use him, then we tak e care of him."
"Who does?"
Ben smiled. "Why, I do. I reserve th e privilege for myself. That's one thing you can have n o part of, Merriam."
"I had a letter today ... from the governor,"
Merriam said.
"I didn't know you two were friends?"
"We're not, not exactly. I s upported him for the office. Made a contribution."
"Then why worry? Tell him everything is al l right in Rafter."
"He knows better--and believe me, tha t contribution doesn't mean a thing. That indicate d support of his policies, but it didn't bu y immunity from a crime."
Ben Stowe knew he had to be careful.
Merriam had been touchy of late. Was h e running scared? Was this thing getting under his skin? Th e worst of it was, he needed Merriam, needed hi m for a little while, anyway.
"Sit down," he said again, "and keep you r voice down." He leaned his arms on the table.
"Look, I'm going to make a deal for Shevli n to take the stuff out, and when he gets it where i t goes ... payoff."
"Will he listen to you?"
Stowe's face showed a grim smile. "Up to a point, any man will listen to money. Wha t he's asking himself right now is how he can ge t away with all of it. And don't you be worried abou t Eli Patterson. He's a long time dead, an d half a million in gold is a lot of money.
Mike Shevlin never had anything in his whol e life but a horse and a gun, and here's his bi g chance. He'll go along."
"I don't like killing."
"So you've said before, but Shevlin will die a lon g way from here."
At this moment, at the hotel, Mike Shevli n was stripping off his clothes, and he almost fel l into bed. He was nearly asleep already when h e pulled the blankets over him.
But Laine Tennison lay wide awake i n her bed at Dr. Clagg's house, staring u p into the darkness. She was remembering the face she ha d seen at the top of the chute in the mine, just barel y seen. She had talked fast to get Ben Stowe ou t of there, talked glibly to get him to bring he r home, but she was worried about him. How much ha d he been fooled by her chatter? She was afrai d he had not been fooled at all.
Of one thing she was sure: Ben Stowe was the mos t ruthless man she had ever met. She had not th e slightest doubt that he had ordered Lon Cour t to kill her, or that he would kill her when th e opportunity offered, and if he was sur e of the need for it.
The death of Eve Bancroft had dampened a lot of the spirits around Rafter Crossing. One ma n in town who lay wide awake was Tom Hayes.
Stowe's talk with Hayes had frightened him, and h e lay awake now, remembering the veiled threat s Stowe had delivered to him in the restaurant.
All his life Hayes had lived in the shado w of mightier men, and he envied them not at all, fo r to be mighty was to be a target for hatred. He had carefully avoided facing issues, avoide d taking sides, avoided making decisions that migh t lead to trouble. And now, through the invitation of Dr.
Clagg, he himself had become vulnerable. And h e was frightened.
He got up suddenly and reached for his pants.
Chapter 17
Laine Tennison awakened with a start, every sens e alert. She did not sit up, she did not eve n stir, only her eyes were wide and she was listening.
Her room was very dark, for there was no moon a t this hour. There was no wind, but she had a feeling o f movement, of stirring. Somewhere in the house a boar d creaked. Was Rupert having a late nigh t call?
Immediately, she knew that would not be true, for a t such times Dottie never failed to get up and star t a fire for some tea. There was something wrong , definitely wrong.
Very quietly, she listened, and heard a voice, not loud but clear enough. "Doc, you tak e it easy now. I'd surely hate to kill th e only doctor in the country around. You si t tight, and nobody will get hurt."
She knew the voice. It was that man the y called Red, and he worked for Ben Stowe. Someho w Ben Stowe must have discovered the move they were abou t to make against him, and he was taking steps to preven t it.
Where was Brazos, she wondered. But as sh e asked herself the question, she remembered: Ruper t Clagg had sent him out of town, carrying a message to two ranchers Clagg believed migh t join them to throw Stowe out. He was to go to Wal t Kelly's place first, and then across countr y to Joe Holiday's.
Who had the others been? There were Bill y Townsend and Fields, and if they had no t been taken, they must be warned, and quickly. Sh e turned swiftly and went to the window, which was partl y raised. Ever so gently, she lifted the window stil l further.
Was someone on watch out there? It was likely.
She went over the sill very quietly, and stood stil l a moment. How much time did she have before they would com e to her room?
There was a man standing near the gate, so she wen t quickly along the edge of the lilac bushes , hesitated, then moved swiftly across a smal l open space to the shadow of the barn. There was no chanc e of getting a horse, but for what she intended to do , a horse was unnec.
At the back of the barn was a small gate, an d she opened it softly and went through, closed it, an d took the same route Mike Shevlin had onc e used to approach the house. Hurrying, running an d walking, she reached an alley that led to the street.
The town was in darkness; the only lights were a t the Blue Horn, in the rooms at the back wher e Townsend lived. Two men were loafing on th e boardwalk out front.
If Ben Stowe had discovered Rupert's plans, he must also know that Laine Tenniso n owned the mines. She had to have somewhere to hide, som e place where she would not be found. And in her need sh e had thought of Mike Shevlin's room in th e Nevada House.
He would not be there, but she knew he had kep t the room, for he was often in town. This time, as before , she went to the back of the hotel and went up th e outside stairs to the second floor.
The hall was empty. She went along i t swiftly, praying his door would be unlocked. I t was, and she stepped inside quickly. At the sam e moment she felt the sharp prod of a gun in he r ribs.
"Mike?" she whispered.
"Yes," he said softly. "What's happened?"
As rapidly as she could, she explained wha t had taken place, from the meeting at the hous e until now.
"There wasn't a chance for them to carry it out , Mike. I don't believe Rupert had eve n talked to Mr. Hoyt. I was going to tell you abou t it when I rode out to the claim, but you were gone, an d I couldn't resist looking into t tunnel. And the n Ben Stowe w
as there, and when I saw you I c ouldn't think of anything but getting him out of there."
"Did you see anybody else? Anybod y outside or inside the mine?"
"No ... no one at all."
He scarcely realized what she said, for he wa s thinking of Ben Stowe, wondering what Stowe would do.
Now that he knew who would be against him, would h e kill them all? But then, how could the disappearance o f several prominent citizens be explained? Or would he just hold them, try to put the fear of deat h into them, then let them go?
Shevlin's every sense told him that Ben Stowe wa s riding the rim right now. He had killed, an d killed more than once. He had gotten away wit h it, and with his success had come that sense of power tha t comes to such men, the feeling that they can go on killin g and remain immune. In such men, the ego grew an d grew, until they rode rough-shod over ever y obstacle.
Yet Stowe had always been a coldl y cautious man. There had never been anything of th e reckless, heedless, hell-for-leather cowhand in him.
How much had his character changed?
"Laine, you've got to hide," Shevlin sai d now. "You've got to stay out of sight, and this is th e best place I can think of. There's some grub i n my duffel--it isn't much, but your best bet i s to stay right here where they won't dream of huntin g you."
"And you?"
"I'm taking the gold out, Laine. Ben Stow e offered me a deal--he offered me Gentry's piece of the operation."
Her eyes searched his face. "That could mean a lot, couldn't it?"
He took her by the shoulders. "Yes," h e agreed, "it could mean a lot. He'll tr y to kill me; in fact, he will probably try befor e I reach the end of the trip, or at any rate, jus t after I do; but if I can stay with it, I could come ou t of it a rich man. The only thing is, it wouldn't give me what I want most."
"And what would that be?"
"Y."
She made no effort to draw away from him, n o effort to escape his hands. She just looked up a t him, her eyes cool and almost appraising.
He had thought of her, too often, these past fe w days and had called himself a fool for thinking wha t he did. He had told himself over an d over that he would never have the nerve to say anythin g to her; but now here it was, and he had said it, and sh e was not laughing at him. That was something, at least.
the High Graders (1965) Page 14