“Conrad and Peso must’ve hightailed it back to town to tell Simon what happened,” Cyclone said.
They were crouching in the tall weeds on a knoll high above the area where the wagon had gone off the trail into the river and peering out at the busy activity below. The two guards that had been in the mine supervising the prisoners and the two relief guards were there. The two younger prisoners were there and four other men from the mine that the Wildcats did not recognize were there.
They had brought another freight wagon and obviously the crew had been there for quite some time for the wagon bed was almost half covered with bullion crates. They were still dark with wetness.
The two prisoners were in the water down below with two of the miners. They would dive under the water attaching ropes to crates, return to the surface and signal the two miners up top on the edge of the trail, manning the ropes. One by one, the crates would be hauled up, disengaged from the ropes and loaded into the wagon bed.
The Wildcats watched for another hour and a half as the processed continued. As the wagon bed approached three quarters full, progress down below seemed to slow down and the appearance of new crates became more intermittent and less frequent. The divers were more and more returning to the surface empty handed, getting a fresh gulp of air and diving back under the water.
The cases that did come up were not in as good of shape as the earlier ones. More and more they came up damaged. Some had broken panels. Others had missing panels, altogether. Sunlight reflected off the contents, revealing without a doubt that the crate did, in fact, contain silver bullion. Some crates came up, not only broken open, but partially empty.
When after lengthy periods of searching, no further traces of the bullion were found in the river below; whether because they had sunk too deeply into the mud or washed away, or for whatever reason, it became evident that the search for further retrieval was beyond practicality. The wagon load was now perhaps eighty five to ninety percent of the original amount and that would have to do.
The search was called off and the prisoners were the first to be sent up. They swam to the ropes to start their ascent.
While everyone was busy wrapping up the operation, the Wildcats went into action. Kitty, Kip, Jeremy and the four young men slithered rapidly down the hill through the weeds and burst out onto the trail, guns ready and spreading out, next to the wagon and the four guards, who were just tying the canvas down over the load.
The guards were bent over and taken with a startle. Their eyes lifted staring into the bores of gun barrels. Their hands reflexively reached halfway toward the pistols on their hips, but they thought better of it and froze.
Cyclone, Chief, and Rap had stood erect in plain sight on top of the knoll, they had rifles out and aimed menacingly. “Just everybody hold yer hosses,” Cyclone said. “Raise your hands and behave yourselves and nobody gets hurt. Yas unnerstan’.”
The two men manning the ropes suddenly caught sight of what was happening and almost dropped the ropes, but Kitty ran toward them, wielding her pistol, “Just keep doing what you’re doing if you don’t want to take a dive with a lead anchor in your gullets.”
Frankie ran over to back her up. The two men nodded their understanding. Fear was in their eyes and their muscular arms trembled as they continued to haul on the ropes.
A moment or two later, the first prisoner came over the edge and rolled onto his side. Frankie pulled him to his feet and for the first time he saw Kitty. “Wha...?” He started to say.
“Never mind. Keep quiet,” Kitty ordered in almost a whisper. “Get over there with my friends. She motioned with a nod of her head.
With a quizzical look on his face he moved quickly away, just as his companion rolled over the edge onto the rim. Frankie pulled him away and they dismissed him summarily to the others with the same dispatch.
“Keep them coming,” Kitty ordered the two rope men. “No signs. No signals. They get one inkling, something is up and you’re all down. You got it?”
They nodded, dropped the ropes back down and the two miners started they climb up.
“Frankie,” Kitty said. “Get Kip for me, will you?”
“Sure thing.” He skipped away,
A few seconds later Kip strode over. A big smile was on his face. “And what can I do for you milady?” He said graciously; his eyes twinkling with delight.
She glanced down the ropes toward the men climbing up. “”You’re so much better at this than I am.”
He grinned broadly. “Yes, indeedy. I certainly am.” He hefted his pistol and stepped close to the edge waiting for the two miners to roll over onto the top.
When the Wildcats drove the loaded wagon away, all of the mine personnel were left tied securely with their own ropes. The two miners that had climbed up out of the water were still unconscious thanks to Kip’s expertise.
They turned the wagon around and headed back the way they had come for a ways to avoid the sharp upward turn that had been so dangerous to them before. They took the two prisoners with them and when they found a fairly flat stretch of meadow off to the right, they turned off and set out toward the eastern horizon. They traveled about an hour until the countryside became more hilly and covered with trees and rocks.
They rolled onto hard rock country where they would leave little sign of their passing and found a small canyon with a narrow stream running through it. They pulled up inside it and found cover behind some scrub brush. It had been a long time since they had stopped to rest and eat, although they had periodically partaken of strips of dried jerky from time to time as they rode in the saddle.
The water was clear and cool here. They refilled their canteens and the horses drank their fill from the stream. There was fresh grass along the stream banks for the horses to crop.
As tempting as it was to build a small smokeless fire and boil some coffee, it was decided that it would not be a good idea. Even keeping the smoke at a minimum, they did not want to take a chance on exposure. Besides, they did not want to linger in the area any longer than necessary and it would take time to get the water boiling.
They broke out some cans of peaches and some stale biscuits from the saddle bags and all partook of a meager meal. They all sat on the ground near the wagon.
While the others washed it all down with water, Rap stood up, pulled his flask from his coat pocket, threw his shaggy head back and chuck a lugged several swallows.
“Damn, that’s good,” Rap said with relish as he pulled it from his lips. “That is heaven.” He fluttered his eyes and shook his head. “That is pure dee heaven.”
“You mean pure dee devil, paleface,” Chief chided. “It not heaven you headed for.”
“Look you fake Injun. You go where you want. Happy Huntin’ Ground, is it? I go Happy Drinkin’ Ground.” He took another swallow. Then lowering the flask and carrying it in his massive hand as he strode around the wagon eyeing it appreciatively.
He stepped up to it and tossed the front corner flap of the canvas back exposing the loose ingots. “Wheeuuwee!” He exclaimed like an excited little boy on Christmas morning. “Would you just look at that. We’re rich fellas. Richer than rich,” he said. He quickly stoppered his flask and stuffed it into his coat pocket. He picked up an ingot and turned it over in his big hands. He began to dance a jig and giggled with glee.
“Lookum like firewater no good for paleface either,” Chief said. “Him dance like crazy Injun.”
“Crazy dad burned idjit,” Cyclone groaned with disgust at the antics.
“Hey Cy,” Rap shouted, holding the brick up. “How much you think all this is worth? Two, three hundred thousand?”
From where he was sitting, Jeremy thought he noticed something. A darkness crossed his face and he pushed himself to his feet and hurried to the wagon and took the brick from Rap.
He turned it over in his hands and examined it carefully. Without saying anything, he placed the brick back in the wagon bed and picked up another one. He didn’t take it completely
out of the wagon. He turned it over and examined it. He put this one down, picked up another one, looked at it and tossed it back into the wagon box angrily. His jaw was set and was fixed on the load. He remained silent.
By now the others were realizing that something was wrong.
“What is it boy?” Cyclone asked.
Kitty jumped to her feet and ran to the wagon. The others came to their feet and followed close behind.
Chief was more nimble than Cyclone and had gotten to his feet and joined the others long before Cy had managed to climb to his feet and shuffle over to join them. He was too far behind the crowd to see just what was going on.
“Take a look,” Jeremy said, handing a brick to Kitty.
Chief pushed by the others and took another one from the wagon bed. He held it up close to his inch thick lenses.
“The silver is peeling off,” Kitty said.
“It’s just a thin layer of silver painted over a lead brick,” Chief said.
“So, how much is it worth?” Rap was still smiling with delight.
“Three, four thousand,” Chief said.
“Each brick?”
“No, you darn fool. The whole load.”
“Aw, you’re just funnin’ me, you durn fake injun,” Rap said. His smile was starting to fade while still trying not to believe it.
“The water must have gotten to it and made it peel,” Frankie said. “I read about it in school. It’s called silver plating when you put a thin veneer of silver over something to make it look solid. They make cheap jewelry that looks real. But it can corrode or peel off under certain circumstances. The exposure in the water must have affected it when the cases broke open. Do you think all of the cases are lead bricks covered like this?”
“Probably,” Kitty said. “It’s unlikely that just the broken cases had the coated bricks. But what I can’t figure out, is why Simon Price would go to all this trouble to coat bricks with silver and why he would go to so much trouble to get this shipment back when it’s worth so little.”
“He was probably intending to palm this stuff off to someone as real silver” Jeremy said.
“But surely, whoever bought it, would find it out soon enough and come back at Price right away. There’s got to be more to it.” Kitty said. “He’s got something up his sleeve. If we only knew what it is.”
“Sounds to me like this Simon Price is even slicker than what I thought,” Kip Dalton put in.
“You couldn’t imagine,” Kitty said.
“He can think up the gol dangdest schemes nobody ever heered of afore,” Cyclone said. “He’s got the devil hisself whisperin’ in his ear, tellin’ him what to do next. God fearin’ people like us ain’t got a chance of guessin’ what he could be up to.”
“Maybe we need a little less God Fearing and a little more Devil daring,” Kip said. There was a glint in his eye and a glimmer of hope.
After leaving the canyon they returned to green meadows and tree lined valleys. They rode for about half an hour when Cyclone rode alongside Jeremy and motioned to him to pull the teams to a halt. Jeremy pulled up.
Cyclone shifted in his saddle and said to the two prisoners. “Now, you boys know we can’t keep totin’ you around. I’m sorry about that, but that’s just the way it is. It’s not good for you and it’s not good for us. You hang with us and you’re liable to wind up dead or back where you come from. Now we got you out here a ways from where you were. There’s cover around here for you to hide in, if you hafta. We’ll leave you a canteen, some jerky and some canned peaches. That’s all we got. Sorry we ain’t got horses to give ya, so you’ll have to hoof it wherever you’re goin’. But take my advice and get as far away from here as fast as you can and don’t never come back”
“We appreciate the help and the advice,” the one prisoner said as he jumped down from the wagon.
“Yeah, thanks again,” the other said as he jumped down. They stood there with solemn looks on their faces as the wagon and riders moved on northward, leaving them behind.
Chapter Twelve
The Return of Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid Page 15