No Less Than the Journey (32 page)

CHAPTER 22

On the way to the outlaw’s canyon hide-out, Aaron questioned Old Charlie in detail about the geography of the area. He was told there was another way out of the canyon, but it was by means of a narrow defile in the canyon wall, only just wide enough to allow horsemen to squeeze through in single file and it would necessitate scrambling up a steep slope strewn with rocks that had tumbled from the peaks above in order to reach it.

Old Charlie added the information that, as it was at the far end of the canyon from the cabin and not easily seen, it was possible the outlaws did not know of its existence.

Even if they did, he believed it would be possible for a single posse-man armed with a repeating rifle to be positioned at any one of a number of vantage points above the narrow defile and prevent the whole gang from escaping along this route.

When they reached the canyon, Aaron sent Old Charlie off with eight of the posse-men to seal off this possible means of escape for the Denton gang.

The remainder of the posse-men were stationed at the
mouth of the canyon to prevent any attempt to escape this way and Aaron placed them in such a way that a fusillade of bullets could be poured into the gang if they attempted a cavalry-type charge on the besiegers.

Satisfied he had done all that was possible to contain the Denton gang, Aaron and Wes made their way to the vantage point they had occupied during the previous night, in order to count the horses in the corral. If a large number of outlaws had left the canyon during their absence and returned unexpectedly, they could pose a serious threat to the posse.

Much to Aaron’s relief there were now twenty-six horses in the corral, the animals belonging to Gideon Denton and his companion being added to the original number.

He had arranged that Old Charlie should join them here when the mountain-man had placed the posse-men to his satisfaction in the defile. While they were waiting, Aaron looked at Wes’s gaunt and tired features and asked, ‘How you feeling, Wes?’

Shaking his head wearily, Wes replied, ‘When we got back to Denver and found … found what had happened I felt a sense of unreality and my mind was numbed. It’s still numb, but feeling’s coming back now and letting the pain through. I’m finding it hard to come to grips with it, Aaron. This time yesterday Anabelita was alive and as happy as I’ve ever seen her. We’d talked things through … talked about the baby … about getting married and becoming a family. We had so much to look forward to, but now…?’

Wes stopped abruptly as the stark reality of what had happened to Anabelita, and all that it meant, hit home fully for perhaps the first time. Raising his glance to Aaron’s face, he said, ‘But you’ll have a good idea of how I’m feeling. You and Lola…!’

He failed to finish what he was saying, but Aaron
understood and they were both silent for some time. It was Aaron who broke the silence, saying, ‘It’s strange, Wes. I’ve met many bar-girls in my life, but there’s not one I’ve remembered for more than an hour after I’d got on my horse and ridden away from her. Lola was different, there was something in her I’ve never found in any other woman. I think I once said to you that if she hadn’t been a whore she’d have made someone a good wife. It’s easy to say now, but I’d been thinking more and more lately about the sort of wife she’d make and there weren’t many arguments – not real, important arguments – I could make against it, especially when I saw how excited she got when you and Anabelita decided to marry. You and me might get some satisfaction from seeing justice done on their behalf, Wes, but it’s not going to bring either of ’em back to us.’

Trying unsuccessfully not to dwell upon how happy Anabelita had been at the thought of their future together, Wes was relieved when Old Charlie arrived to report that he had placed the posse-men in position along the defile.

Dismounting from his mule and seating himself Indian-style on the ground beside the two men, he said, ‘Well, we’re all where we should be, Marshal, what do we do now, go in and take ’em by surprise?’

‘There’s no way we could do that, Charlie. We’d never reach the cabin without being seen and they’d pick us off like pigs in a pen. No, we’ll negotiate, like civilised men should.’

Wes and Old Charlie looked at Aaron as though he had suddenly taken leave of his senses. It was the mountain-man who put their thoughts into words.

‘This is the Denton gang we’re talking about, Aaron. Since when have they behaved like civilized folk? I doubt if they’ve even heard tell of the word.’

‘I don’t doubt it for a moment, Charlie, but I think we ought
to at least try – and we have just the man with us to go in and do the negotiating for us … Chief Kelly.’

Now it was Wes who challenged Aaron’s reasoning, ‘He’s not likely to even try to persuade them to give themselves up. He’s been in their pockets for so long he wouldn’t dare risk them being taken alive and telling what they know about him. He’s far more likely to join up with them and give them some idea of what we are planning to do.’

‘So? Either way he’s a loser. One way he might just finish up as a live loser. The other way he’ll be dead with the rest of ’em.’

CHAPTER 23

Chief Kelly rode up to the outlaws’ cabin holding aloft an empty rifle, to which was attached a white handkerchief supplied by Denver’s mayor. To the casual observer it would have appeared the handkerchief was fluttering in the breeze, but the air was still and the movement was caused by the chief’s nervousness, his shaking hand transferring movement to the improvised ‘flag of peace’.

Kelly had good reason to be nervous, he had been tolerated by the Denton gang in the past only because he could occasionally prove useful to them, setting gang members free on the few occasions when a Denver police officer had the courage to arrest one of them for misbehaving in the town, and turning a blind eye to the more serious crimes they committed in the surrounding countryside. However, now there was a United States Marshal in Denver, Kelly’s usefulness to the gang did not amount to much.

Aware that he was probably being covered by a great many guns, the frightened chief began shouting out his peaceful intentions long before he reached the outlaws cabin but he felt no less threatened when Ira Gottland came to the doorway holding a rifle in his hands.

‘What d’you reckon you’re doing coming here waving a flag, Kelly, it’s not Thanksgiving for a while yet?’

‘This is no celebration, Ira,’ the police chief, declared, ‘We’re all in deep trouble. Marshal Berryman is out there with a posse from Denver. He’s sent me in under a flag of truce to say you’re to give yourselves up or he’s coming in to get you.’

‘What are you talking about? The marshal’s dead – and that Englishman too. Gideon killed them.’

‘No he didn’t.’ Terrified of contradicting the outlaw leader, Kelly continued hurriedly, ‘Gideon certainly burned the marshal’s house down, but he shot one of the women Berryman brought to Denver from the riverboat. He probably shot the other woman too because she hasn’t been seen since.’

Turning back into the cabin, Gottland shouted angrily, ‘Did you hear that, Gideon? You didn’t shoot no marshal or interfering Englishman, you killed two women and now Berryman’s out there with a posse. He’s sent this snivelling police chief to call on us to give ourselves up.’

Coming to the doorway, Gideon Denton was scowling, ‘You sure Kelly’s telling the truth, Ira? You don’t think he’s brought a posse up here to trick us into giving ourselves up, just to get the glory … that and a hefty reward?’

Breaking out in a cold sweat, Kelly protested, ‘I wouldn’t do nothing like that, Ira, you know I wouldn’t.’

‘Do I? I
thought
I did, but you’ve come up here with Marshal Berryman, calling on us to give ourselves up … and I’m suddenly not so sure any more.’

‘I didn’t come here because I wanted to, I swear! The marshal came to my home and pulled me out of bed, telling me I was in trouble for letting Vic Walsh go. I didn’t want to come. I’ve got a lot to lose too if he stays alive. Look, I’ll stay here with you and help fight the marshal and his men off.’

‘We don’t want you here,’ Ira said. ‘As for the marshal … you tell him that if he wants us he’ll need to come in and try to take us – but he’ll need to bring the army and an artillery piece in with him. He’s never going to take us with a posse, no matter how big it is.’

‘I’ll tell him that, Ira and I’ll try to persuade him and the posse to go back to Denver. Whatever happens, you won’t find me firing at you. If he makes me shoot then I’ll aim up in the air, you can count on that.’

Fearing for his life, here in the canyon, Chief Kelly turned his horse and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks … but he did not get far.

The horse had not even got into its stride when Gideon Denton threw up his rifle and fired. Kelly fell forward onto the neck of his mount before slipping sideways, causing the horse to turn and come to a halt.

‘What did you do that for?’ Ira Gottland demanded of Gideon Denton, ‘He was going back with a message for the marshal.’

‘We’ll tie him on the horse and send him back dead,’ Denton said, callously, ‘That’ll give Marshal Berryman and his posse all the message we need give.’

He had hardly finished speaking when one of the men crowding around Chief Kelly’s horse fell to the ground and a split second later the sound of a rifle shot echoed around the canyon.

Suddenly, all thoughts of using the dead chief of police as a gruesome message were forgotten as outlaws ran to the cabin, dragging their wounded companion with them.

Aaron and Wes, with Old Charlie and two of the posse-men had returned to their position on the canyon edge look-out spot, overlooking the outlaws’ cabin by the time the slow-
riding Denver police chief arrived at what would be his final destination.

When Kelly was shot from his saddle, Aaron asked Old Charlie if he felt he could hit one of the outlaws with his large calibre rifle.

‘The way they’re bunched it’d be like putting a shot into a herd of buffalo,’ Old Charlie declared. ‘It might even down two or three of ’em.’

His subsequent shot downed only one and he fumbled the cartridge when re-loading, with the result that by the time he got off a final hasty shot the outlaws were fleeing back to the shelter.

He fired a third time, but the outlaws were already inside the cabin and it only resulted in the door being slammed shut.

Old Charlie’s fire was returned from the windows of the cabin, but the outlaws did not possess a weapon with the range of his large-bore buffalo gun and the bullets fell short.

Further shots from Old Charlie’s rifle shattered a window before stout wooden shutters were swung into place inside them.

‘What do we do now?’ Wes asked.

‘That depends,’ Aaron replied, ‘How many bullets do you have for that gun, Charlie?’

‘Enough to last out a lengthy siege,’ was the reply, ‘and there’s plenty more in my saddle-bags.’

‘Good! Start picking off their horses in the corral.’

When Wes protested that such a course of action was extreme, Aaron retorted, ‘So is shooting women. We’re dealing with unprincipled killers, Wes, and I don’t intend to let a single one of ’em escape. Start shooting, Charlie.’

The old mountain-man had downed five of the unfortunate animals before the outlaws realized what was happening and returned a fusillade of wasted shots.

Eventually, one outlaw, braver or more foolhardy than the rest flung open the only door of the cabin and ran around to the corral with the cabin between him and the three men in position above the canyon. His intention was to open the stable door so that the horses might find sanctuary inside.

He died against the still closed stable door and Old Charlie completed his heartless cull of the hapless horses.

‘What now?’ Wes asked, aware that it would soon be dark.

‘We wait,’ was Aaron’s reply, ‘In the meantime you and I’ll go and warn the men guarding the path at the end of the canyon to be on their guard in case anyone attempts to escape that way. They can work in two shifts, half of them sleeping while the other half stay on guard at the canyon end of the defile. They’ll be hidden from view but with a nearly full moon tonight they’ll see anyone coming towards them. You remain here, Charlie. You should be able to see if there’s any movement around the cabin and I want you to shoot, even at shadows – and put the occasional shot through a window. I want to keep the outlaws awake all night.’