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Authors: Ralph Compton

Tags: #West (U.S.) - History, #Western stories, #Westerns, #Fiction, #Superstition Mountains (Ariz.), #Teamsters, #Historical fiction, #General

Skeleton Lode (13 page)

BOOK: Skeleton Lode
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“I think we all did,” said Dallas. “He started out bein’ a damn nuisance with a big appetite, but we owe a lot to him, includin’ this camp that Hoss must have used.”

 

“We’ll all miss him,” Arlo added. “Especially when we’re wrasslin’ these horses and mules to graze through that crack in the rim.”

 

“One look at that death’s head mountain scared him off,” said Dallas, “so he wouldn’t have been any help to us in our search for the mine. I say tomorrow we make tracks to that mountain and begin our search.”

 

“Then let’s think of some way to do it without Gary Davis seeing us,” Kelly said. “I think we’ll be better off if he doesn’t know Kelsey and me are alive and in your camp.”

 

“I’d have to agree,” said Arlo. “The Superstitions aren’t just a single mountain but a group of them. We don’t know that it’s even possible to reach that one mountain on horseback, especially from here. To begin
with, we have to find a way down that eastern rim, without going through the canyon where the Indian attack took place. I doubt Davis will remain there, but we can’t count on that. It’ll be mighty inconvenient going on foot, but I think that’s the best way. On foot we can drop behind rocks, brush, or paloverde if we need to, but the horses and mules wouldn’t be that easy to hide.”

 

“We could leave Kelly and Kelsey here,” Dallas said. “We may have one hell of a time just gettin’ to and from that mountain.”

 

“I don’t care how bad it is,” declared Kelly. “I’m going with you.”

 

“So am I,” Kelsey said. “I love this country, but I’m scared to death of it. I’m glad Uncle Henry won’t know what a pair of cowards we are.”

 

“Nothin’ cowardly about bein’ afraid,” Dallas assured her. “Especially when you’re up against somethin’ you don’t understand. We may all be afraid, or even dead, before this is finished.”

 

“Uncle Henry wanted you and Arlo to have half this mine,” Kelly said, “with Kelsey and me taking the rest. I think we’d be shaming his memory if we didn’t go with you, to fight beside you, to die if we must.”

 

“By God,” Dallas shouted, “you got Logan blood all right!” Seizing Kelly, he kissed her full on the mouth. When he came up for air, he grinned at her. “Go on and hit me,” he said. “It was worth it.”

 

“Hey,” Kelsey cried, “what about
me
?”

 

Gleefully, Dallas released Kelly and started toward Kelsey, but Arlo got there first. “Get away from her, you hog,” he said.

 

The canyon was already in purple shadow when the fifteen riders from town arrived. Bollinger led three horses, while Rust led the remaining two and a loaded pack mule. The dozen men who had come to dig graves dismounted, picketed their horses, and unlashed picks and shovels. Accompanied by the sheriff, Bollinger and Rust rode toward the head of the canyon. Gary Davis
came out through the passage from the mountain, followed by Yavapai and Sanchez. Davis had the right sleeve of his shirt rolled nearly to the shoulder, with a bandage on his upper arm.

“I see you got a taste of Apache,” said the sheriff.

 

“He one brave hombre,” Yavapai said with a straight face. “Fight like hell.”

 

Davis said nothing, and Sheriff Wheaton continued, “These gents you sent to town didn’t tell me much. Sorry about your missus. I’ll have the boys dig another grave, if you want.”

 

“No,” started Davis, “I …”

 

“The Señora Davis disappear,” Sanchez interrupted helpfully. “The mountain take her and the
hijas
.”

 

Davis threw a murderous look at Sanchez, while receiving an incredulous one from Sheriff Wheaton.

 
Chapter 6
 

“I reckon you got some explainin’ to do,” Sheriff Wheaton said.

“We was in that hole in the mountain,” said Davis nervously, “and Paulette was hit by some ricochet lead. The girls just … went crazy. We left them alone with her. When we went back, they was all three gone. There’s a passage that goes into the mountain …”

 

“I reckon that’s the same tunnel that swallowed a couple of men last night,” the sheriff said. “The seven that first brought news of the Indian attack had some wild story about Ed Carney and Hamp Evers disappearin’ into that hole.”

 

“Si,”
said Sanchez. “Is true. We hear these screams like
El Diablo
himself have take them, and they no return. Our hombres be afraid to stay, and we leave. Is why the
Indios
find us in the canyon, while the Señor Davis hide in the mountain.”

 

“God Almighty,” Wheaton said in disgust, “none of you even made an attempt to find Ed and Hamp or the Logan girls?”

 

“They be gone,” said Yavapai. “If we follow, we be also gone.”

 

“Where’s Wells and Holt?” Sheriff Wheaton asked. “Has the mountain swallowed them too?”

 

“We don’t know where they are,” said Davis shortly. “They left their camp on the Salt in the middle of the night, and we ain’t seen ’em since.”

 

“I’ll have to go into that tunnel and at least look
around,” Sheriff Wheaton said. “Will some of you go with me?”

 

“No, Señor.” Sanchez blanched as he and Yavapai backed away, shaking their heads. “We see two hombres go in, we hear their screams, and they no come back. Also the mountain take the dead señora and the
hijas
.”

 

“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it,” Davis said, “but I ain’t settin’ foot in that tunnel. I’m speakin’ for Rust and Bollinger too. We can’t afford to lose nobody else.”

 

While the sheriff trusted none of them, he had no proof of any specific crime. Had they fabricated a story, anything would have been more believable than what they’d just told him. Yavapai and Sanchez were a pair of thieves and scoundrels, but Wheaton didn’t believe they would lie for Gary Davis, even to save his soul from hell. The sheriff rode back down the canyon and received the response he had expected from the men digging the graves.

 

“It’s already gittin’ dark, Sheriff,” said one of the men. “I ain’t for stayin’ here one minute longer’n it takes to plant these poor souls, and I wouldn’t go wanderin’ through them mountain tunnels if the whole damn United States Army was goin’ with me.”

 

The rest of the men, equally afraid, wanted only to be away from these eerie, forbidding mountains. The sheriff sighed. He dared not remain in the Superstitions alone, if for no other reason than that they might be full of Apaches. As he saw it, his duty didn’t include getting himself killed in a solitary search that would likely be futile anyhow. When the dead had been buried, the sheriff and the gravediggers rode back to town.

 

Gary Davis and his four companions watched them go. Davis turned to Rust and Bollinger with the scolding they had expected. “I specifically told you to get into town and out without attracting attention,” Davis growled, “and you come ridin’ back with the sheriff.”

 

“It’s no more than a village,” said Rust, “and we were seen. Wheaton was there at the livery, and he made it a
point of telling us to ride back with him and the burial party.”

 

“Next time you got business in town,” Bollinger said, “go and take care of it yourself. Then if the sheriff gets bothersome, you can just gun him down.”

 

Despite the uncertain days that they knew were ahead, Dallas, Arlo, Kelly, and Kelsey enjoyed their supper that night and the conversation that followed. Whatever ill feelings the girls had harbored toward their mother, her death had been a shock. Arlo and Dallas entertained Kelly and Kelsey with their experiences as cowboys, as teamsters, and as saloon owners, and told them everything they could remember about Hoss Logan. Finally it was late enough that they could risk taking the horses and mules to graze.

“Paiute showed us this plateau,” Arlo said, “but we have to wrassle the animals through a gash in the rim, and part of the way down the mountain. Dallas and me can take the horses first, and then come back for the mules, unless you girls can handle ’em. It’s a hard way to go.”

 

“Daddy taught us to hitch up, drive, and unhitch a six-mule team,” said Kelly. “Just one mule each? Anywhere those mules can go, we can take them there and bring them back.”

 

“We’ll pull our own weight,” Kelsey affirmed. “Besides, we don’t want to be left alone until this is finished and we’re far away from Gary Davis. You’re stuck with us, and until we’re out of these mountains, neither of you can go anywhere without us.”

 

“It won’t be proper, us goin’ with you to the bushes,” said Dallas, in a joking manner.

 

“It’s proper enough,” Kelly replied, “when we’re afraid to go alone, because we don’t know who or what might be hiding in those bushes. Once this is all behind us, we’ll go back to whatever you consider proper. Until then, let’s do what’s practical. Uncle Henry wouldn’t argue with that.”

 

“No,” said Arlo, “I reckon he wouldn’t. For now, let’s take all these critters down to graze, then come back and get some sleep. We’ll have to be up well before daylight, so we can bring them back in here without being seen.”

 

Arlo and Dallas led the horses over the rim and down the hazardous trail, while Kelly and Kelsey followed with the mules. The descent posed no problem, the girls handling the mules with a skill that delighted Dallas and Arlo. Leaving the animals to graze, the four of them climbed back up the deep gash to the rim and were soon safely in their hidden cavern.

 

“I wish Paiute had been able to bring our bedrolls,” said Kelly.

 

“Dallas and me can spare each of you a blanket,” Arlo said. “One blanket’s as good as four or five when all you’ve got under you is solid rock.”

 

“I don’t know if I’ll sleep or not,” worried Kelsey. “I can’t help thinking that Yavapai or Sanchez might know of this place, and I have the awful feeling they might come in while we’re asleep. Gary Davis may try to convince them he needs Kelly and me to legalize his claim to the mine.”

 

“After the way you and Kelly disappeared, I don’t think those Mex coyotes will go wanderin’ through the belly of this mountain,” Arlo said. “Even if they were brave enough to try it, they’d never find their way to the passage that comes out in our back wall behind the falling water. The only other way in is the passage we use, where we lead the horses and mules in and out.”

 

“There’s a bundle of rawhide strips here,” said Dallas. “Why don’t we rig a trip wire somewhere along the passage, stretched knee high? There’s an old coffee tin we can hang on the line, and it’ll make a hell of a racket on the solid rock if somebody tears that rawhide loose.”

 

“Yes, please do it,” Kelsey said. “I’d feel so much better. I might even be able to sleep.”

 

“I feel the same way,” said Kelly. “I don’t think we’ll ever feel safe as long as Gary Davis is alive.”

 

“Rig it up, Dallas,” Arlo said, “and set it as far out as
you can. If somebody trips it, we’ll need time to grab our Colts. Just remember to take the thing down before we go after the horses and mules. Drop that tin on solid rock, and in this mountain air the clatter would be heard all the way to Tortilla Flat.”

 

When Dallas had completed his task, the four of them spread their blankets on the stone floor. Kelsey wriggled over next to Arlo.

 

“We’re dressed, except for our hats and boots,” she said, “and we’re all rolled up in our blankets. Is there any reason I can’t sleep next to you?”

 

“None that I know of,” said Arlo. “We’ll be warmer, since we each have but a single blanket.”

 

“Kelsey,” Dallas said, “you and Kelly could put your blankets together and roll up next to one another. You’d sleep more comfortable, and warmer too.”

 

“Dallas,” said Arlo, “will you kindly just shut up?”

 

Gary Davis and his cohorts spent a restless night beneath the mountain’s overhang. By the time Rust and Bollinger had returned with the horses and the sheriff had finished questioning them, it was too late to leave the canyon and seek another camp. Should the Apaches attack, the little group of men would have no protection whatsoever, but even Davis had no desire to return to the mysterious cavern where Paulette had died. Sometime during the night, a small avalanche of gravel had rattled down the mountainside, and the five of them had shot out of their blankets, scrambling for their guns. They had slept little after that, not daring to light a fire for their breakfast coffee until it was full daylight.

“Before we even think of anything else,” Davis said, “I’m gettin’ out of this damn canyon.” He turned to Yavapai and Sanchez. “You hombres know of someplace we can hole up, maybe with some protection, near this skull mountain?”

 

“We know of the mountain, Señor,” said Sanchez. “When we go there, we find camp.”

 

“Then let’s get started,” Davis said. “If we dally
around till the sun’s up, it’ll be hot as hell with all the fires lit.”

 

In the cavern, Dallas got up first and awakened the others. First light was little more than an hour away, and it was time to go for the horses and mules. When they returned with the animals, Dallas got their breakfast fire started, crushed the coffee beans with the butt of his Colt, and put the brew on to boil.

“Why don’t you let Kelsey and me do the cooking?” Kelly suggested. “We’re not bad cooks, for a pair of muleskinners.”

 

“More of Jed Logan’s doing, I reckon,” said Arlo.

 

“Yes,” Kelly said, laughing. “He wanted sons, but all he ever got was us. He did the best he could with what he had, and that was partly what drove him and Mother apart. She wanted us to be highborn ladies—or at least appear to be—and she was constantly mortified at what Daddy was doing to us. I felt like she was planning to auction us off to the highest bidders as wives to rich doctors or lawyers.”

BOOK: Skeleton Lode
11.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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