A Coffin Full Of Dollars (15 page)

Carrying the rifle, he went around the cabin and into the woods, following a well-beaten path. Beyond a thin screen of trees was a large, grassy clearing, dotted with picket pins for the horses. Fronting on the clearing was unmistakably a well-equipped blacksmith shop, a shimmer of heat waves still rising from the coals in the forge. The walls were hung with tools, the rafters overhead festooned with horseshoes. Attached to the forge was an immense leather bellows for fanning the coals to maximum heat.

The hunter searched vainly for a hacksaw that would have simplified the task of cutting off the handcuffs. Failing to find one, he reluctantly settled for a three-cornered cutting file, a cold chisel and a heavy blacksmith's hammer. Neither an axe or a wood saw could be found so the chisel would have to serve for cutting both the wheel spokes and the handcuff chains. They would be awkward jobs at best with the chains limiting the spread of his hands to a scant eight inches.

Back at the gold wagon Shadrach greeted him indignantly. "When I told you not to rush, I was only being polite. I had no idea you'd decide to go and come by way of San Francisco."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch!" the hunter said, dropping his tool collection on the ground. "If I didn't have to have your help to get my own cuffs off, I swear I'd go off and leave you here to rot."

"Ah, dry up and get to work. My bladder's crowding me and I can't even get my hands close enough to unbutton my p—
what's that?
"

On his knees, the bounty hunter swung around, his head cocked to the muted rumble they had heard before. This time the sound was not repeated, nor was there the muffled crash.

"It's the gate or door or whatever they use to conceal the entrance. Somebody's coming." He scrabbled up the tools and rifle and got to his feet
.
"If it's Apachito and his bunch coming back for some reason, don't give anything away. Tell him I chewed off those spokes and headed out through the tunnel to drum up a posse. I
'
ll try to stay close enough to cover you with this rifle if the going gets too sticky."

"But what about my bladder, dammit? I can't hold out much longer. What'll I do?"

"Do what you did when you were just a little bastard," the hunter yelped and galloped for the nearest trees.

He was still diving for cover when the slot at the top of the U disgorged a body of horsemen. Even before he identified Apachito and his lieutenant in the lead he knew that for some unguessable reason the outlaws had abandoned their search for Dandy Deever and the money chest.

He found temporary cover in a dense patch of underbrush near enough to the wagon park so that he could hear everything that was said. With his hands shackled so close, the use of the cold chisel was necessarily a two-man job, one holding the chisel and the other wielding the hammer. He hid those under a pile of fallen leaves where he could find them again when the opportunity arose to put them to use. The file he tucked into his pocket to use later when there would be no one close enough to hear the rasping sound against the tempered steel of the cuffs.

He could hear the angry voice of Apachito yelling something above the thunder of hoofbeats but he could not make out the words. Then the noise of hoofs dwindled and died. There was a loud creaking of saddle leather, followed by the thump of boots on the ground.

The voice of Shadrach said, "You fellows had better get while the getting's good. My partner got loose right after you left and went out through the tunnel to round up a posse and lead it back here. He ought to be clear to Hangville by now and telling his story to the sheriff."

"Don't bother lying," the voice of Apachito said coldly.

"We saw him running into the woods as we came out of the pass. Chico, you and Sam ride to the tunnel on the double and stand guard until you're relieved. Tex, you and Marty go back and guard the pass."

Lupo said, "You want the rest of us to fan out and search the woods, chief. He can't have gotten very far."

"Don't bother," Apachito said. "With the only two exits from the canyon sealed off, he'll come in soon enough on his own when he gets hungry. As a matter of curiosity, how
did
he manage to break those spokes when Lupo and I together couldn't even bend them?"

"He gnawed them through," the bland voice of Shadrach said.

"Oh, yes. I see that now. And he spit powder marks and lead streaks on them at the same time. Lupo, old friend, you were to see that they were completely disarmed. I think we will have a little talk, you and I, about carelessness."

"I thought you started out to find Dandy Deever and get that half-million dollars he stole," Shadrach said. "Don't tell me the fearsome Apachito gives up that easily."

"The fearsome Apachito, as you so truthfully describe me, has learned a valuable lesson. I have often heard it said that all things come to him who waits. Until today, I never believed it. Now I do. I waited, and you two walked right into our hands. Not only that but you brought me the news of what became of the bank's money. I still refused to believe, until now. At this moment, my friend, Mister Dandy Deever's three wagons are just entering Crazy Woman Pass to deliver the chest with the half-million dollars to me here."

"You've got to be out of your mind," Shadrach blurted, his voice shaken. "Why on earth would Dandy Deever come here?"

"Because," the voice of Apachito bubbled with mirthful triumph, "Mr. Deever doesn't know yet that he
is
coming here."

*****

In the lead wagon, Dandy suddenly bawled "Whoa! Whoa!" and hauled back hard on the reins. The wagon came to a jarring halt, the noses of the team only inches from a wall of sheer rock.

From close behind Molly called, "What is it, Dandy? What did you stop for?"

"Because something's wrong, Mol—completely wrong. Remember when we came through Crazy Woman Pass last year? I remarked that it was the first dead-straight pass we'd ever hit—so straight I said it could have been blasted out by engineers."

"Of course I remember, and it was. I noticed it myself."

"Then do you remember this right-angled turn?"

Molly scowled up at the towering rock face confronting them, then at the beaten road that unmistakably executed a right-angle turn into a narrower pass.

"No, Dandy, I don't, and that's strange. I usually remember every twist and turn of every road we ever travel." She leaned out to call back, "Hunk, you remember coining through the pass here last year. Do you remember that we had to make a sharp right-angled turn?"

"No'm," the big man called back. "I don't remember any turns at all. But it don't seem possible the good Lord'd put this here twist in between then and now, just to plague us sinful mortals."

"Well," Dandy shouted, "whether we remember it or not, the road goes this way and we either follow it or run into a cliff, so let's go."

He slapped the reins and the team obediently leaned into the heavy collars and the wagon lurched into motion. It was a tight turn and he barely made it without backing. He glared at the unfamiliar stretch of road, annoyed by this evidence of a memory lapse. He looked back to see the other two wagons following, having also negotiated the sharp turn. Hunk's wagon had an empty cage on the rear. The horses had returned after the flood but there had been no sign of Elmer, the lion. Molly and the girls were beginning to worry that some accident had befallen the amiable old beast. After all, Jefferson Davis's camels were almost the only other alien animals to be encountered by trigger-happy and uninformed citizens. And to the uninitiated, Elmer could look like a strange and ferocious beast whose only purpose in life was to absorb bullets.

In this stretch of pass, the rock walls were nearly close enough to scrape wagon hubs. Dandy glared at the encroaching walls and swore under his breath. Above all, he prided himself on a sharp and facile mind and this evidence that he might be slipping rode him with sharp spurs.

Up ahead the rock walls opened wider to expose a flat and luxurious canyon. More than ever, Dandy was convinced that he was on a new and totally unfamiliar road. Yet the "how" of the happening eluded him. So far as he knew or could remember, Crazy Woman Pass was some five miles of almost arrow-straight rift between walls of solid rock, without fork or side trail. It had probably been formed in some prehistoric past by the same awesome fury that had upended the Malhoras and broken them into largely impenetrable rubble scaled for giants.

The wagons emerged from the narrow pass onto the broad and open floor of a canyon. All around were steep and towering cliffs with great heaps of broken rocks at their feet. Some distance ahead the scattered trees merged into a dense, dark wood. At the edge of the woods were some half
-
resolved shapes that could be buildings of some sort.

Dandy's eyes and reason convinced him that never in his life had he seen this place before. Yet straight on led a road—the only road he had seen since entering the pass. Dandy was a cocky and self-assured man and no experience of his life had ever shaken him so badly. He looked down and saw that the slim hands holding the reins were trembling violently.

The horses plodded steadily on. As he neared the woods, he saw that the shapes he had glimpsed at first actually were cabins, tucked back under the trees. Close beside them was a wagon park, crowded with an array of vehicles parked hub-to-hub.

In the forefront was a heavy wagon, its bed covered by a tarp, its side bearing the name;
LUCKY NUGGET MINE
. The name was unfamiliar to Dandy but the man with the Y-shaped scar on his cheek, sitting on the ground with his arms thrust through the right rear wheel, was shockingly familiar.

Dandy hauled back on the reins, yelping, "
You!
What in hell are you doing down there?"

"What in hell do you think I'm doing?" Shadrach snarled. He slid his arms up the wheel spokes and shook them to make the handcuffs jingle. "Knitting cat's fur to make kittens' britches?"

Apachito rode out of the woods with Lupo at his side and the remaining outlaws strung out behind. The outlaw chief leered at Dandy, his dark Indian eyes glittering.

"Well, well. If it isn't Mr. Dandy Deever himself. It was good of you to make this long journey just to deliver my half million dollars."

Dandy's complexion had turned the color of wet ashes. He slapped his forehead and moaned, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

CHAPTER 18

At the appearance of the outlaws, Laura had dived out of sight under the canvas, joining Cora who was still in her bedraggled clown costume and makeup. Molly sat alone on the wagon seat, pale, grim and wary. On the third wagon, Hunk had his trumpet to his lips and was softly playing something that sounded suspiciously like a jazzed-up version of a funeral dirge.

Apachito swung out of his saddle. He was no longer grinning and his eyes had the cold glitter of a snake's. He snapped his fingers impatiently.

"Don't just sit there like a wart on a whore's behind. Come down and dig out the chest of money from wherever it is. Or did you think to make Apachito play guessing games, eh?"

Dandy scrambled to the ground, tottering on legs that threatened to buckle like boiled noodles. His eyes darted wildly around in a futile search for rescue.

"Now wait, Mr. Apachito. J-Just give me time to explain."

"There is nothing to explain," Apachito roared. He slapped his holstered gun. "Your time is running out.
Get me that chest of money! Muy pronto!
"

"That's wh-what I'm trying to explain," Dandy quavered. "I don't have the money. I—I g-gave it back to the bank. It was r-rightfully theirs..."

Apachito roared like a wounded bull and cursed wildly in English, Spanish and a variety of Indian dialects. In his hiding place The Man With No Name raised up far enough to get a glimpse of the scene through the trees. His lips twitched and he shook his head wonderingly.

"That brass-nerved bastard," he murmured. "He might just pull it off, at that. Apachito doesn't know him as well as I've come to these past weeks. But the day Dandy Deever gives back a half-million simoleons, the long-horn steers'll lay hard-boiled eggs."

The bandit chieftain had cursed himself out of breath. He whirled, ran to the back of Dandy's wagon and ripped the curtains apart. The interior was piled high with a variety of circus equipment. At the rear, packed in against the tailgate, was the folded canvas of the recovered dressing tent.

Panting, Apachito clawed at the still-damp folds of canvas until he could lift one end. Nestled snugly beneath it was the metal money chest, the name "Hangville Bank" stenciled on the lid.

He whirled, snarling, "So you gave the money back, did you? You think to make a fool of Apachito?" His gun was suddenly in his hand. "For that I should kill you where you stand."

"
Don't
," Dandy quavered. "Listen to me, Mr. Apachito. There isn't any money in it. I swear there isn't. The bank let me keep the chest for holding costumes because it's watertight and they won't get so wrinkled in the rainy season."

"We'll see," Apachito rasped. "Lupo, you and Moose, get it down and open it. If there is so much as one dollar in it, this schemer with the forked tongue will die very slowly."