Silver City Massacre (11 page)

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Authors: Charles G West

BOOK: Silver City Massacre
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“I'll spook you in a minute,” Elvira came back, causing Ruthie to giggle again, and drawing a hearty chuckle from Joel.

In another minute, they were all laughing, with the exception of Red Shirt, who was somewhat astonished, unable to understand their mirth. Joel, on the other hand, understood the sudden release of tension that had built up over the last several days of hard travel through some rugged country, and the feeling that this town they sought was never going to be found. He was glad to see them laughing. Tomorrow, they would reach Silver City. Then someone could tell him how to find his brother.

It was going to be great seeing Boone again after so long a time. He wondered if his elder brother had changed much since he last saw him. The war changed a lot of men, himself included. Of course, the obvious change in Boone would be his crippled leg. Joel hadn't seen him since that happened, but he knew his brother's resolve when facing any problem was to go right on in spite of the obstacles.

Joel was eager to know the situation Boone was involved in, and what he and Riley could contribute to expand the venture. He had spent many an evening speculating about the future and what he wanted to make of it. Boone had a mining claim, but he had also claimed a parcel of mountain land that would be suitable for raising horses and cattle. And Joel had to admit that was something he was more interested in than panning for gold. In his letter, Boone said there were already several sizable mining companies working the hills around Silver City, and the town itself had attracted the usual flock of prospectors as well as merchants, saloons, and bawdy houses. It seemed to Joel that somebody was going to have to feed all these people, and that's where he hoped he and Boone would come in.

We'll find out tomorrow,
he thought. “I expect we'd best get mounted,” he sang out. “We've still got a few hours of daylight left.”

•   •   •

It was a little bigger than he expected. From Boone's letter, he had gotten the impression that the town was little more than a few rough buildings and a row of tents. He had to assume that the row of buildings on two sides of one main road were a testament to how rapidly the town was growing. He turned to speak to Riley when he rode over the crest of the hill to join him and Red Shirt.

“Well, there she is, Silver City. Whaddaya think of her?”

Riley didn't answer at once, but took a moment to scan the rough buildings. His eyes stopped on one that had a sign over the door, proclaiming it to be a saloon.

“Looks fine to me,” he said then. “Seems to have everything a man could need.”

Knowing well what his partner meant, Joel, however, was of a different mind. He looked over the slope behind the stores for a suitable place to put the horses while he was seeking information about his brother. The grassy spot behind what appeared to be a blacksmith's looked to be the best.

“We'll bunch the stock over behind that forge,” he told Red Shirt. “That look okay to you, Riley?” Riley said it did, so Joel turned to talk to Elvira. “Soon as the horses are took care of, I'm goin' to see if anybody knows where my brother's place is. What do you wanna do?”

“That looks like a general store next to the saloon,” she said. “I think I'll go in and look around, see if there's anything I need. It's handy to the saloon, so me and Ruthie can help pick Riley up out of the street when they throw him out.” She chuckled then and waited for his response. It wasn't long in coming.

“They're more likely to elect me as mayor, once they see what a fine gentleman I am when I've had a decent drink of likker,” he said.

“I stay with horses,” Red Shirt said.

“If we're lucky, we'll be ready to ride out pretty quick,” Joel said, making sure Riley and Elvira remembered that he planned to find Boone's place before dark. He pulled the gray around to get in behind the horses again, and he and Red Shirt, with Elvira's help, drove them down into Silver City while Riley rode straight to the saloon.

•   •   •

Toby Bryan looked up from his bench when he heard horses filing in behind his shop. Surprised, he got up and went to the back of his forge to see four riders, one of them an Indian, and one that looked to be a young girl. The girl and one that could be a woman each led a packhorse. They drove about a dozen horses into the field behind his small corral and dismounted. Seeing no one he recognized, Toby stood watching them. After a minute or two, they parted in several different directions. One, a tall man, dressed in buckskins, headed directly toward him.

“Mornin',” Joel called out as he skirted the small corral and entered the back of the shop.

“Mornin',” Toby returned. “Somethin' I can do for you?”

“Is it all right if I leave those horses there for a little while, till I get some information?” Joel asked.

“It's all right with me,” Toby said. “I don't own that piece of land.”

“I'll need to have four of those horses shod, but I might wait till I find out where I'm headin' from here. Maybe you can help me find a fellow who has a claim around here somewhere.”

“Oh?” Toby replied. “Who are you lookin' for?”

“Boone McAllister. You know him?”

“McAllister?” Toby repeated, raising one eyebrow. “Yeah, I know him.”

“Can you tell me where to find him?”

“Out at his place, I reckon.”

“And where might that be?” Joel was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to prod the man with a stick to get the information he wanted. Maybe it had been his luck to pick the town's idiot for directions.

Instead of answering Joel's question, the blacksmith asked one of his own. “Are you one of Beauchamp's new crew?”

“No,” Joel answered. “I don't know any Beauchamp. I'm just tryin' to find Boone McAllister's claim. I reckon I'll just go ask in the saloon. Maybe somebody there can tell me how to find Boone.” He turned to leave, but Toby stopped him.

“Hold on, mister,” he said. “If you ain't workin' for Beauchamp, are you a friend of McAllister's?”

Impatient now, Joel answered, “I'm his brother.”

“Oh,” Toby responded, and paused before continuing. “In that case, I'm pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand. “My name's Toby Bryan.”

“Joel McAllister,” Joel said, and shook his hand.

“The best way to get to your brother's place is to follow the creek north outta town.” He took a few steps over to the back of the forge and pointed. “That's Reynolds Creek. Just follow the trail beside it for about eight miles till you come to another trail that leads up the mountain. It's marked by a little pile of rocks with a tree limb that looks like a cross stickin' up in the middle of it. McAllister's cabin is about halfway up that mountain. That trail will take you straight to it.”

“Well, that sounds easy enough,” Joel said. “Much obliged. I'll bring those horses in to get new shoes in a day or two.” He turned to leave, then stopped at the edge of the corral to ask one more question. “Who's Beauchamp?”

“Ronald Beauchamp,” Toby replied. “He owns Beauchamp Number Two, one of the three biggest mines in Silver City.” He paused a moment before adding, “And he owns Blackjack Mountain, just north of your brother's property.” He looked as if about to say more but thought better of it.

“Well, nice to meet you, Toby,” Joel said in parting. “I'll be seein' you later on, I reckon.”

“Same here,” Toby said. “I know your brother will be glad to see you.” Again he paused. “Good luck to you.”

Strange man,
Joel thought as he walked back to tell Red Shirt that he was going to round up Riley and the ladies and get started on finding Boone's cabin. He figured it a good time to talk to Red Shirt, now that they had reached Silver City, and let him know that he didn't expect anything further from him.

“I help with horses till we find your brother,” Red Shirt said when Joel told him that he had completed his side of the bargain.

“That'll be fine, if that's what you wanna do,” Joel said. “You brought us to Silver City, just like you said you would. So I just wanted to let you know you earned your horse, and you don't owe me a thing.”

He shrugged. “I help with horses.”

“Suit yourself,” Joel said. “I'll go see if I can round up the rest of our party.”

It seemed he was facing the same situation with Red Shirt that he had with Elvira and Ruthie.
Everybody wants to stay with me and Riley,
he thought.

His first stop was the saloon, because he figured it would take a little time to wrench Riley away from the bar. A couple of miners sat on the one step in front of the building advertising itself as the Silver Dollar Saloon. They barely leaned aside to give him room to enter the building. Inside, he paused at the door to look the room over, his carbine hanging casually in one hand. He failed to see Riley at first, but on a closer look, he spotted his stubby partner seated at a back table. Two men sat with him, and there was a bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table.

“Joel!” Riley yelled when he spotted his young partner in the doorway. “Come on over and have a drink!”

Uh-oh,
Joel thought.
Ain't been in here thirty minutes and already drunk
. He walked over to the table.

“Kinda early in the day for heavy drinkin', ain't it, boys?”

“Yeah, mister,” one of the men said, “set down and have a drink.”

“Thank you just the same,” Joel said, “but I expect me and Riley here best be gettin' along. Ain't that right, Riley?”

Riley favored his drinking companions with a wide grin, tossed the rest of his drink down, and got immediately to his feet.

“Well, you heard the boss, fellers. I reckon I've got to go, but I wanna thank you for your hospitality. It's a friendly little town you've got here.” He turned to Joel and said, “It's a right friendly little town, Joel, I swear.” Turning back to his drinking companions then, he said, “I'd like to stay a little longer and talk some more about that mine, but the man says I gotta go.”

Joel wasn't sure just what was going on, but Riley was up to something. And one thing was sure, he wasn't as drunk as he had first thought, for he strode as soberly as usual on those short, bowed legs as he headed for the door. “Come on, Joel,” he called back over his shoulder.

“What the hell . . . ?” One of the men at the table jumped to his feet. “You can't just walk outta here! You drank a helluva lot of whiskey.”

“That I did,” Riley called back. “And I enjoyed every drop of it.” He paused just before going out the door. “Did I remember to thank you for it?”

The man on his feet took a long look at the formidable figure in the buckskins who was still standing between him and Riley. Not quite sure what Joel would do if he decided to go after Riley, he hesitated to make the move. He glanced at his partner, who was still seated, and seemed satisfied to stay there. So it would be him alone against a man standing a head taller and a helluva lot more sober. But he couldn't let Riley get away with it without at least complaining.

“That friend of your'n drank up half a bottle of rye whiskey and he ain't paid a damn cent for it. He owes me money.”

“I'd just let it go, if I was you, mister,” Joel told him. He didn't know what kind of game Riley had been playing, but he knew his former sergeant would stand behind any promises he made. “I'd advise you not to buy Riley any more whiskey. I don't know what was goin' on here, but I'm thinkin' you boys mighta learned a lesson today.”

“Is that so?” the man shot back. “Maybe I ain't the one gettin' the lesson. We got a way of handlin' smart alecks around here. Ain't that right, Sid?” Sid simply nodded in reply, having already decided not to test the man with the carbine.

“What does that mean?” Joel responded soberly.

“It means it'd be a good idea for you and your friend to get the hell outta Silver City before you have an accident.”

Joel locked his eyes on those of the man threatening him for a long moment before replying, “Mister, if you've got something in mind, you'd best get about doin' it, 'cause I plan to be in town for a while.” He continued to stare into the man's eyes for what seemed like a long time, but the man made no response.

He'll wait till I turn my back if he's going to make a move,
Joel thought. Then he couldn't help wondering how Riley could get two strangers so riled up in such a short time.

When his antagonist remained silent, showing no indication of taking it further, Joel said, “All right, then. Good day to you, gentlemen.”

When he turned to leave, the man reached for the .44 he wore at his side. Expecting just such a move, Joel swung his rifle around in one quick move, catching the man on the side of his head with the barrel of the carbine with enough force to lay him out cold. The crack of the gun barrel against his cheekbone made a sound almost like that of a rifle shot.

Joel turned his gaze upon Sid, who showed no indication of interfering. To the contrary, his wide-open eyes and worried look were evidence enough that he had no interest in backing up his partner. To make certain Joel understood that, he held up his hands in surrender and announced, “I got no part in this fight.”

Joel nodded and backed slowly toward the bar, keeping an eye on both Sid and the bartender, who had made no move to take any action. When he was close to the door, he stopped to ask the bartender, “Does my partner owe you any money?”

“Nope,” Jake Tully answered. “Sid and Leon bought the bottle. Your friend didn't buy anything.” He smiled then and added, “Includin' what they were sellin'.”

“Good,” Joel said. “We wouldn't wanna start off on the wrong foot here in your town.”

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