A Coffin Full Of Dollars

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A Coffin Full Of Dollars Page 15

by Joe Millard


  "Bravo!" the hunter said. "But if you're going to play the hero, you'd better keep that gun your daughter lifted off the guard. You're liable to need it."

  "No, no, no," Dandy exclaimed, throwing out his hands in a gesture of rejection. "I simply wasn't cut out to be a gunslinger. Why, if I tried to use one of those, I'd probably wind up shooting myself. I'm simply too clumsy-handed."

  "Yeah," the hunter said dryly. "I noticed that the first time I saw you shuffle and cut a pack of cards."

  "If you're implying what I think you are," Dandy said reproachfully, "how can you harbor such thoughts?"

  "For some reason," the hunter said, "hanging around you for any length of time makes it easy to do. If you want to pose as a nice innocent, fumble-handed pilgrim in front of the suckers, go right ahead. Far be it from me to spoil your pitch. But when you start involving us and money in your cute schemes, you can expect to get your ears pinned."

  "Hear, hear!" Shadrach said. "I thought you'd never get around to talking common sense. It's funny how I seem to keep forgetting all about that little matter of a half-million dollars."

  The twin stamped her foot. "Stop it, you big oafs. Next thing, you'll be yelling at one another and waking up the whole lot of them."

  "You're right," the hunter said. He took both her hands. "We owe you our lives for getting us out of that place. We're grateful and we aren't forgetting it. We'll try to stay close by. Sooner or later this slicker you inherited for a father is going to get into another mess of trouble, but we'll try to get him out with a reasonably whole skin, Laur—uh—Co—Dammit! Which one are you?"

  She giggled again. "You traveled with us all that time and still can't tell us apart? If we can confuse a smart man like you, just think what we can do to those poor, stupid outlaws when we really put our minds to it."

  *****

  The bounty hunter awoke when the first light of dawn began to gray out the darkness. The blankets Molly had given them had been left lying on the ground. They had gratefully brought them along on their flight, but despite the covering he could feel the night's chill seeping into his bones.

  He sat up, shivering, flailing his arms to restore circulation, and said, "Rise and shine, you peckerwood. Another day, another dollar."

  When there was no response, his head whipped around. A few yards away, Shadrach's blankets were neatly spread. There was no sign of the occupant. He whirled and felt under the edge of his own blanket where he had tucked the extra pistol Cora took from the guard. It was gone.

  He got to his feet, swearing. He had indicated to his rival that the half-million dollars was very likely in an obvious hiding place around the wagons. Shadrach must have figured it out and gone after it.

  He was clawing his boots back on when there was a crashing in the underbrush. He grabbed for his gun.

  The voice of Shadrach said, "Don't shoot a partner bearing gifts."

  He stepped into the small clearing and dumped two rifles and a box of shells on the ground. Grinning at the hunter's expression, he brought out two pistols and extended them.

  "Here's your own gun, plus the one I borrowed from under your blanket. I've had a busy and exciting time, but a profitable one, as you can see."

  The bounty hunter gaped at the armament. "How in hell...?"

  Shadrach chuckled. "You corked off the minute you hit the ground, and did you snore. I couldn't sleep so I decided to go back and get our guns. The guard you slugged was beginning to stir so I whopped him. What a headache he'll have today. Then I piled brush around two sides of that jail cabin and set it afire, and heaved a rock through the window of Apachito's headquarters cabin. It must have scored a bullseye from the language he used. Anyhow, he came charging out, yelling for his gang. While they were putting out the fires I strolled in, found our pistols and took the rifles and a box of shells for good measure."

  The bounty hunter whistled softly. "You had yourself quite a time, I'd say. It's too bad you couldn't have raided his pantry while you were there. It's going to be a long time between meals for us."

  Shadrach hauled out his watch, flipped up the lid and tilted the face toward the light.

  "Breakfast will be ready in just about an hour. I woke Dandy and arranged to have Molly cook our meals. Dandy's going to leave the food in the middle of that thicket where you dumped their gun belts. He's quite perky now, figuring Apachito won't let anything happen to him before next week when he's supposed to collect the reward money."

  "He'd better not crowd his luck," the hunter said glumly. "If he's pushed too far, Apachito's the kind who could fly into a blind rage and lash out at anybody, regardless of the consequences or cost."

  CHAPTER 22

  Apachito's fury when he discovered his jail open and empty of prisoners was almost violent enough to start rock-slides in the jumbled Malhores. It reached a new peak of intensity with his discovery of the missing guns and ammunition. His yelling awakened Molly and Dandy in the wagon where they were sleeping on top of the dressing tent canvas.

  Molly said, "I still think you should go and hide with those others. He'll take his vengeance out on you. We'll make out all right, I'm sure, and if he can't find you, he can't hurt you."

  "I'm not running away," Dandy said with quavery firmness. "I'm safe until next week and by then, with those two loose and armed, anything can happen."

  "Yes," Molly said thoughtfully. "With those two on the loose, anything can happen."

  Curiously, Apachito was remarkably mild in his confrontation with Dandy. Only the glitter in the depths of the dark Indian eyes betrayed his suppressed fury.

  "So you got out along with the other two."

  "What else could you expect me to do? We heard a noise and all of a sudden the door swung open. The other two went rushing out so I rushed out after them. But when they tried to get me to go along with them and hide out, I refused. I came back here to be with my family and help get set up for today's performance. Besides, I have to be here to go in next week and collect the reward money."

  "Oh, yes," Apachito said, as if the matter had completely slipped his mind. "The reward money. Of course."

  When he had gone, Molly threw her arms around Dandy and held him close.

  "I'm scared, Dandy. This time I'm really scared. If he had raged at you or threatened you—but all his rage was bottled up inside, and that's what scares me."

  *****

  The bounty hunter stood guard with the cocked rifle over his arm while Shadrach burrowed into the heart of the thicket behind the wagon park. He emerged grinning triumphantly and displaying a packet of thick meat sandwiches. They moved back further into the woods and sat on a fallen log to eat.

  Shadrach opened the packet, took a sandwich and pushed the others over.

  "Dig in. If you're as starved as I am, this venison will hit the spot."

  He had the sandwich halfway to his mouth when the hunter suddenly lunged and knocked it out of his hand. Meat and bread went flying into the underbrush.

  "Damn your soul!" Shadrach yelled, red in the face from anger. "What in hell do you think you're doing?"

  "Maybe saving your life," the other said grimly. He lifted the top slice of bread from the second sandwich. Beneath it the meat was thickly sprinkled with coarse white crystals. "A good cook like Molly would never shovel the salt on that thick, and I never heard of anybody putting sugar on venison. Maybe I've just got a nasty, suspicious mind, but..."

  "Poison," Shadrach croaked. "You don't suppose that sonofabitching Dandy...?"

  "No, I don't. Dandy might steal his mother's false teeth if there was a market for them, but I simply can't picture him as the cold-blooded killer type. I think it's more likely Apachito has had somebody watching every move Dandy made. When he was seen hiding a package in the very same place we hid the gun belts, it wouldn't take any great brain to figure out it was something meant for us. So that skunk would open the package, realize what a perfect opportunity he had and add a little seasoning of his own that wasn't in t
he recipe. It was just luck that some of the stuff dribbled out and I happened to notice them."

  He got up, found the pieces of Shadrach's sandwich and reassembled it, carefully brushing off all dirt and bits of leaves. He put the restored sandwich on the bottom of the pile and rewrapped the package, taking care to fold the paper exactly as it had been when they got it. Shadrach watched the proceeding with bright-eyed interest.

  "Whatever scheme you've got cooking in that skull of yours, I only hope it's dirty."

  "Not dirty enough," the hunter said grimly. "I'd prefer to pin that buzzard down and hand-feed him these sandwiches to the last crumb. But since that isn't practical at the moment, I'll have to settle for sticking a pin in that overblown vanity of his. Come on."

  He picked up his rifle and, carrying the package of sandwiches, led the way back toward the outlaw headquarters. They reached the edge of the woods below the wagon park and peered cautiously out.

  The outlaws had a cookfire going in front of Apachito's headquarters cabin and were lounging around, waiting for their breakfast to be ready. Having been deprived of their supper the previous night, their whole hungry attention was focused on the fire and the food.

  A bed of live coals had been raked to the edge of the fire and on this a number of coffee pots bubbled and steamed. A large iron kettle of beans was suspended from a pole. A quarter of beef was impaled on an iron spit over the fire, sizzling and crackling as the fat dripped out. The meat appeared to have been freshly butchered so the gang must have a small herd of cattle penned somewhere close by.

  From time to time one of the outlaws rose and languidly gave the spitted beef a quarter-turn. The mingled aroma of coffee, beans and roasting meat tormented the hungry pair in the underbrush. Shadrach's stomach issued a loud, indignant protest and he swore under his breath.

  Further out by the circus wagons there was a bustle of activity. The dressing tent was up and enclosed. Hunk and Molly were setting up the trapeze, with Dandy prancing around and barking instructions. The planks for the stage had been lost in the flood but stakes had been driven and a rope strung to mark off a comparable area. The white horse for Cora's trick riding act was picketed close by.

  "Better than I'd dared hope for," the hunter murmured. He thrust the package of sandwiches into Shadrach's hands. "Hang on to these and stay put while I go stir up a little trouble."

  "More power to you, partner," Shadrach said.

  The bounty hunter worked his way cautiously around to a point in the woods almost opposite the cookfire. Scrounging through the underbrush he collected a generous heap of small dry twigs and broken branches. Plucking six cartridges from his belt he poked them into the pile at various places, then snapped a match alight and poked it into the base of the heap around its circumference.

  The tinder-dry twigs flamed up instantly. The hunter snatched up his rifle and scurried back to where Shadrach was still crouched in the brush. The latter eyed him curiously.

  "Mind telling me what delightful evil you've been up to?"

  "Just creating diversions, old partner. Wait around and be ready for opportunities as they unfold."

  Suddenly there was the loud crash of a gunshot from the woods behind headquarters. The outlaws shot to their feet all attention toward the woods behind, snatching out their guns. A moment later there were two more shots, close together.

  "Don't tell me," Shadrach said. "Let me guess. You built a hot fire back there somewhere and dumped a handful of cartridges into it. Now the heat is setting them off and making these stupids think either they're under attack or a wild gunfight is going on back there in the woods. Congratulations, old chap."

  "Don't mention it. Just be ready to make the most of it in case it actually works."

  The outlaws had their guns out and were milling around in confusion, no one certain exactly where the sound of the shot had come from. Two more shells exploded in swift succession, then a single shot after a brief silence. Apachito yelled something and raced in the direction of the shots, with his gang streaming after him.

  "Come on," the hunter barked, as the last outlaw vanished into the woods. "If you figure on a square meal today, move—pronto! The moment they stumble onto my fire, they'll figure out how they were tricked and come boiling back here, thirsting for our blood. Dump the meat into the kettle with the beans. I'll help you carry it as soon as I grab the tools we need."

  He was snatching up spoons, tin cups, a razor-sharp Bowie knife stuck in a grease-stained section of log obviously used as a carving block. Then, lugging the kettle of beans and beef between them, they plunged into the woods only seconds before Apachito and his cursing pack burst out. Behind them, the bounty hunter left the packet of poisoned sandwiches in plain sight as a fair exchange.

  They were deep in the woods when they heard the yells of rage with the discovery of the missing food and utensils. The two exchanged faint grins.

  "Now," Shadrach said, "I know what they mean by heavenly music."

  "I heard about a fellow once," the hunter said, "had a big bunch of singing cats. He'd line 'em all up and run back and forth, stepping on one tail and then another. The cat whose tail got stepped on would yowl. Each cat had a little different sounding yowl, so by picking his cats, he could play real tunes. I got a feelin' if we tromp Apachito and his boys just right, we might get us an act with Dandy's circus."

  They stumbled onto a perfect hideaway, a deep pocket in the base of the cliff, screened from the front by masses of fallen rock. There they feasted like kings on the stolen breakfast For added seasoning they had only to visualize the rage and frustration of Apachito and his hungry pack. Twice they heard the outlaws beating back and forth through the adjoining woods, but the chance of their hiding place being discovered was so remote that neither even interrupted his meal.

  Afterward they carried the kettle of leftovers back into the woods and hung it from a stub of broken branch, high enough up to be reasonably safe from ants and marauding animals. The leafy branches hung down around it to hide it from casual eyes.

  "What do we do now?" Shadrach asked. "Got anything special in mind for hell-raising?"

  "Sort of. But right now I've got a hankering to backtrack along that road in and see where it comes out into Crazy Woman Pass. It's wide enough for the circus wagons, so it's got to be more than just a goat track. Then why haven't any of the posses stumbled onto it during all the years they've been hunting for Apachito's hideout? Dandy says they drove into the pass and stayed right on the only road there was, but they ended up in here. And he swears there wasn't a side road or a fork they could have blundered onto by mistake."

  "Ordinarily," Shadrach said musingly, "I wouldn't believe anything Dandy says on a wagonload of Bibles. But I can't see how he'd stand to gain a penny by lying about the road. Anyhow, you've raised the questions so let's go see if we can find us any of the answers."

  CHAPTER 23

  The morning sun had barely cleared the trees but the airless dressing tent was already like an oven. Droplets of perspiration glittered along the edge of Molly Deever's hair and across her upper lip. She patted them with a wisp of sodden handkerchief and stared at her twin daughters.

  Cora and Laura wore identical spangled tights. Everything about them, from their hairdos to their slippers were exactly matching. Laura had even discovered a smudge of dust on one of her slippers, whereupon Cora had added a similar smudge to her own slipper. Seeing them together was like seeing one girl and her mirror image. Molly shook her head in wonder.

  "I've watched you two grow up for going on eighteen years and sometimes, looking at you, I still can't believe it."

  Cora laughed. "Poor mother. We used to drive you half out of your mind when we were kids, didn't we?"

  "You still do," Molly said grimly, "when you come up with crackpot schemes like this one. I don't like it. I don't like it one little bit. Those aren't men out there. They're animals—blood-mad beasts. If they caught on to how they were being fooled, they wouldn't hesit
ate to kill you, or worse."

  Laura giggled. "A fate worse than death, you mean? Every time I used to hear that phrase, I'd almost die of curiosity. I still do, in fact."

  "Well, don't choose today to have your curiosity satisfied," Molly snapped.

  Cora had parted the flaps at the front of the tent to a narrow slit and was peering out. She turned back, grinning, swinging her hips in a slow, suggestive circle.

  "He's still out there, so let's get the big seduction act started. What's the exact time, Mother?"

  Molly consulted a thin gold ladies' watch pinned to her bosom. "Exactly nine minutes after eight. But I still don't think you ought to..."

  "We'll sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk about it when I get back," Cora interrupted. She blew a kiss to her mother and gave her sister a casual wave. "Eight-thirty on the nose should do it. Good luck, Toots."

  "To you too, Cookie."

 

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