A Coffin Full Of Dollars (11 page)

"I'll pay what it's worth in gold or," he slapped his holstered gun, "in lead—depending. It better be good and it better be straight."

"It's straight, chief, I swear t' God. You're wastin' your time here, trying to blast that safe. All that's inside it is peanuts. But
I
know where the real money went
.
"

"Then stop babbling and start talking facts if you expect to collect the gold instead of the lead."

"Yes, sir, chief. Yes,
sir!
Well, just about an hour ago a fella rode in and told us you was comin'. He was huntin' cat down in the hills when you fellas came along, talkin' about how you was goin' to rob the bank and kill somebody afterward. When you stopped to boil coffee he lit out for here with the news
.
Pretty near the whole town cleared out."

"Get to the money," Apachito growled.

"Sure, chief. The president of the bank lit out on horseback with his flunky drivin' a buckboard, and in that wagon was a metal chest. Now, do we get down to business? I'm the only one can tell you what was in that chest and where they headed."

"Now you'll tell me you're a special pal of the bank president and he told you and nobody else." Apachito half drew his gun. "I guess that's enough for me to pay off—in
lead
."

"
Wait
, chief! Now, just
wait
! I'll tell you how it was. Yesterday this chest come in on the Wells Fargo coach, and when they unloaded it they had enough armed guards around it to stand off an army. Then later, in the saloon, I heard the guards talkin' about there bein' a half million dollars in brand-new bills inside. When I saw the chest again today, it was on that buckboard and heading
that
way—a little north by west."

"North by west," Apachito mused, then snapped his fingers. "Of course—the cavalry post
.
It's the one place in that direction where he'd figure his money was protected." He whirled. "Lupo! Everybody! Hit the saddles! I know where the bank's real money is, and we're going to get it."

He started for his horse. The scrawny man ran after him, tugging at his shirt, whining, "Wait, chief. Now, wait. You ain't paid me one cent for telling you where to grab off half a million dollars. You said you'd pay what it's worth."

"And I will," Apachito said, turning, his gun in his hand. "Just as I promised—in lead."

He shot the scrawny man through the heart. Lupo, who had emerged from the bank at that moment, looked down at the body and scratched his head.

"What'd you have to do that for?"

"Because he knew where we were going and what we were after. No matter how much we paid him, he'd sell us out in a minute to anyone who offered a dollar more. The only thing lower then a double-crosser, Lupo, is a
cheap
double-crosser."

CHAPTER 14

Markert finished his recital and stared bitterly at the smashed wheel. Hobe had recovered his breath. He limped to the canted wagon and squatted down to examine the damage, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

"It's no use, Hobe," the banker said. "This is the end of the line for us. If we had time we could get a new wheel and a wagon jack, but they'll be coming after us any minute now."

"How would they know which way you went?" Dandy asked.

"They'll know. Apachito has paid informers everywhere. Besides, most of those who stayed behind when the decent people fled town are saddle bums and sneak thieves who would tell him anything to get into his good graces. No, our only hope would be to hide the chest some place where they couldn't possibly find it. The bank would gladly pay a twenty-five-thousand-dollar reward to anyone who could keep it from falling into their hands."

Dandy's eyes went wide. He gasped, "Twenty-five thou—"

"Hold it," Shadrach interrupted harshly. "I know what's going through your mind, Dandy, and it's no good. If they so much as suspect you've hidden the chest, they'd tear everything apart. Or, more likely, Apachito would simply torture the women until you talked. I know how he operates."

"If there was time," the hunter mused, "we could rig some kind of pack saddle to carry the chest on one of your horses. Or open the chest and pack the money in bags the horses could carry."

From the direction of Hangville came a single gun shot. Shadrach shook his head.

"It was a good idea, but that sounds as if your time is just about to run out."

The hunter snapped his fingers. "Unhitch one of the horses from the wagon. Then climb into your saddle and head west, leading it and making all the time you can. Being part Indian, Apachito will read sign and keep after you, figuring the second horse has got to be carrying the money. Meantime, we'll hide the chest somewhere, maybe in one of those willow thickets along the stream. You can head into the hills and shake off pursuit, then hole up until it's safe to come back for the chest."

"The coffin," Markert said. "The one your daughter gets into and vanishes. The chest should just fit inside. I don't know how the trick is worked, but could you make the chest disappear the same way?"

"Y-Yes," Dandy stuttered, looking stunned at the idea, "But—but..."

Hobe interrupted with a yell. "Here they come a-hellin'!" He pointed a shaking hand toward town.

The horses and riders were not yet visible but a cloud of dust was smoking up in the direction of Hangville and moving rapidly northward.

Hobe was unsnapping the tugs, unhitching the near horse from the wrecked wagon. Markert swung into the saddle and grabbed the rein tossed up to him for a lead line. Hobe finished unhitching the horse and scrambled on to its back, clinging for dear life to the harness.

"I ain't stickin' around here to get kilt," he yelled. "Git the hell goin'."

Markert drove in his spurs and the two decoys burst into a run, heading south along the rim of the gully toward the road that crossed it and ran west to the cavalry outpost.

Dandy yelled, "Bring the chest. I'll get the coffin ready."

He galloped down the sloping side of the gully. The hunter and Shadrach ran to the broken-down wagon. The chest was built somewhat like a foot locker, with stout handles on either end. They hoisted it out of the wagon bed and ran down the slope, carrying it between them.

"How far do you think Dandy can be trusted with this?" the hunter panted.

"Where money's involved," Shadrach said, "I make it a rule never to trust anyone else. And when the stake is a half million, I wouldn't even trust myself. But I can't see that we've got much choice right now."

Laura in her tights and Cora in her clown outfit were holding the tent flaps open. Dandy, aided by Molly and Hunk, was wheeling the coffin on its catafalque out to the entrance. As he lifted the lid a faint chorus of angry yells drifted down from beyond the rim of the gulley.

"They've found the empty wagon," the hunter said grimly. "Now if they'll just follow Markert's tracks, we're in the clear. But I've got a kind of all-gone feeling they're too smart to fall for it."

"Hurry it up," Dandy yelled impatiently. "Get it into the coffin but let it down easy. I don't want the bottom knocked out. Then you two step far back and don't look. I wouldn't
sell
my coffin secret for any money, and I'm sure as hell not going to
give
it away by letting you peek."

They hoisted the heavy chest up and were starting to ease it down into the coffin when Apachito and his men burst over the rim of the gully and came racing down the slope, yelling. A rifle banged and a slug richocheted off the lid of the chest, leaving a silvery trail.

Dandy dived for the ground, yelling, "Let it down! Let the chest down and slam the lid quick!"

They could hear the guttural voice of Apachito bawling, "The money chest! They're tryin' to hide it in the coffin!"

The hunter finished letting his end down and whirled, his gun in his hand. Shadrach had dropped to one knee and was steadying his custom-made killing machine across his left arm. With its enormously longer barrel, its range was far greater.

The gun
blammed
thunderously. Up the slope an outlaw threw up his hands and pitched sideways out of his saddle. He fell under the pounding hooves of the horses coming behind. When they had passed there was only an unmoving bundle of crimsoned rags on the ground.

"Our deal's off," the hunter said through his teeth. "I'm going to try to get Apachito first. With him dead, some of the others might get cold feet and pull out
.
It's our only chance of getting out of this alive."

Shadrach was frenziedly screwing the skeleton stock on to the butt of his pistol. He made no reply but his face mirrored the intensity of the inner struggle between avarice and survival.

The Man With No Name had dropped to one knee. He tried a long shot elevating his pistol for maximum range, but the distance was still too great. He saw a spurt of dust kicked up by his slug a few yards in front of the charging pack. He snapped out the cylinder and replaced the empty with a fresh shell from his belt.

Shadrach had the gunstock against his shoulder. He fired again and one of the running horses stumbled and went down, throwing the rider over its head, then rolling over him. There were howls of rage and scattered rifle shots that went wild. The hunter weighed his chances of reaching his shooting stand, some fifteen yards away, where his rifle and the half-dozen pistols lay, loaded and ready for his act.

Abruptly and unaccountably, the situation changed. The charging outlaws were almost to level flat at the base of the slope. One of the riders suddenly yelled wordlessly, pointing northward, up the ancient riverbed. Then the others were howling in panic, raising a great cloud of dust as they jerked their mounts around and went racing back up the slope.

The bounty hunter was on his feet, running to a spot where he could see past the stage and up the gully. A wall of water, ten or twelve feet high, stretching across the ancient riverbed from slope to slope, was racing toward them at express-train speed.

He bawled, "
Flash flood!
Run for your lives!"

No one stopped to argue. They were all too familiar with the devastation and death that could come roaring down from a cloudburst high in the mountains. Dandy caught Molly's hand and ran desperately toward the slope below their wagons. Hunk and Cora raced at their heels. Laura darted around to the side of the tent and pulled open the door of the lion's cage before running after the others.

Shadrach was running toward the opposite slope, shouting, "Come on, come on! This slope is closer."

The hunter swerved aside to jerk the picket pin out of the soft ground and free the white horse. The black horse, saddled and bridled, was hidden somewhere in the willow thickets that lined the stream behind the tent, but only Hunk and Cora knew exactly where and there was no time to look for him now. He could only hope the black would panic in time and tear himself free before the wall of water struck.

The bounty hunter dug in his toes and ran as he had never run before in his life. The wall of water was so close he could see its top crested with foam and littered with debris. He hurdled the little mountain stream, not yet swollen by the flood waters, and raced on with the speed of desperation.

Shadrach had reached the slope and was looking back, gesturing violently. His mouth was open in a yell but his voice was lost in the deafening roar of the flood.

Elmer, the lion, bounded past the hunter, uttering his coughing roars. He raced up the slope past Shadrach and vanished over the rim. A moment later the black horse pounded past, dragging a broken willow branch to which the reins were still tied.

The hunter was at the foot of the slope and hurling himself upward. A scant fifteen feet would put him safely above the flood. He was almost in the clear when the wall of water slammed into his
p
istoning legs with the force of a rock slide. He staggered, off balance, and would have fallen if Shadrach had not reached down to catch his wrist and haul him clear of the clutching current. Above the thunder of the flood, he heard a faint rending crash as the wall of water struck and demolished the wooden stage.

He threw himself down, gasping for breath. On the opposite slope he could see Dandy and the others, safely above the torrent. Down below, the trapeze, anchored by its guy wires, was still standing. As he looked, the dressing tent tore loose and was borne downstream, with two of its corner poles still tied on and trailing behind like the legs of a swimmer. Ahead of it, Dandy's bass drum was bobbing headlong in the lead. A large black object suddenly popped up behind the tent, turning over and over in the rushing current.

The hunter yelped, "
The coffin!
"

He leaped to his feet and the two raced downstream in wild pursuit. On the far slope, Dandy had also seen and recognized the object He was galloping in pursuit waving his arms.

Up near the rim of the gully, Apachito and his band had reined in to watch the flood. They, too, saw the coffin and spurred the horses into a chase, yelling crazily. Angling down close to the flood they quickly caught up.