Gar Corbin, Bart Sprague, and Shep Palmer raced their lathered mounts into the front yard of the Crown 7, pulling them to a sudden halt, half sliding up to the hitch rail in front of the house. They jumped from their saddles and clamored onto the front porch, their heels pounding the plank flooring. The front door flew open. A tall man with black hair, graying at the temples stared out with large penetrating dark eyes. From the urgency of the approach, Alexander "Lucky" King knew something had gone wrong.
"That woman of yours, "Corbin accused offensively. "She crossed us up."
King’s anger and irritation was held under control. "Come inside. Tell me what happened."
After King’s gunmen had relayed what had happened in the canyon and that Jack Clayton was still alive, they waited expectantly for their chastisement, as King turned away and thought for a while.
"I told you, we should have shot them both," Sprague reminded Corbin.
"No you did right, "King said quietly as he turned back to his men. "She wouldn’t cross me. Something went wrong. We’ve got to try another way."
"I’ll go to town and shoot him, if you want, boss," Sprague chuckled.
King glared at him with irritation. This man scared him too. "No. No that won’t be necessary. There is still nothing to tie me into this deal, as long as he doesn’t see any of you boys that were in on the train job.
"We’re going to move the schedule up. You men get the arms moving tonight. I’ll keep Mr. G-man occupied until you get it done. That way you’ll be out of sight and he’ll have nothing to tie me in. Who knows, I might be able to dispose of him myself" He grinned to himself with self satisfaction. "I’d really enjoy that. I surely would."
It was just after noon when Jack tooled the carriage into King City’s Main Street. The street was fairly crowded with wagons and horses, business seemed to be brisk in this growing metropolis of the range country and Jack could hardly avoid noticing the influence of the towns leading citizen.
They passed by King’s Mercantile on the right. The King of Chance Saloon and Gambling Hall on the left. Further along was the King Bank, King Feed Store, King Livery. Jack conceded to the general idea. This was King’s City as the name implied.
Jack’s attention was drawn to the King Opera House. He took special notice of the bill posted. "Now Appearing. Every Saturday Night. The Singing Nightingale of the West, Miss Tamara Wild." Underneath was a picture of the singer. It was a good likeness of the woman beside him.
"Well, Miss Wild, "Jack said matter of factly. "I got you here safe and sound. See you had nothing to fear from me."
She wrinkled her nose. "Pull up here, Galahad," she ordered. "You’re here. I’m here. Now we go our separate ways."
"Yes ma’am, "Jack agreed. He drew the mare to a halt in the middle of the street and passed the traces over to Tamara and stepped down. He looked up at her, squinting into the bright noonday sun behind her. "If you don’t mind Miss Wild, I’d like my guns back"
"Fair enough, "she answered with surprising cooperation. She handed them over. "If I was too suspicious, I’m sorry." It was sort of a forced almost apology. "A girl can’t be too careful."
"No Ma’am" Jack agreed, slipping his guns into their holsters. He tipped his hat, turned, strode to Regret and untied him. Without looking back toward the girl, he turned Regret and led him back down the street toward the Livery Stable. Tamara Wild drove on.
It was late afternoon, when Jack Clayton entered King’s Palace Restaurant.
After seeing to Regret’s needs at the livery, Jack had registered at the only local hotel that did not bear King’s name. While not as luxurious as King’s Palace Hotel, it was more affordable and Jack was always more comfortable with a simpler life. He had taken a nap and cleaned up with bath and shave. He dressed into his black broad cloth suit, with white shirt, vest, and string tie. He dispensed with his holster and cartridge belt but retained his shoulder holster tucked neatly away under his arm concealed beneath his coat. He dusted off his flat crowned black hat and set off to find something to eat.
It was early yet, for supper, and the restaurant was fairly empty, with customers just starting to come in, but Clayton was hungry so he had come in. He had been directed to a table near the wall toward the back by an attractive, young hostess, who winked coyly at him as she placed the menu before him and swished away.
Jack chuckled slightly, then turned his attention to the menu.
With a startled jerk of his head, Jack looked up quickly when he heard the hostess greet a new comer through the door. "Well, Hello Mr. King, Miss Wild. Early tonight aren’t we?"
Clayton had a good vantage point from where he sat, he could see most of the spacious room and had a good view of the entrance. He watched as the big man escorted his companion to what appeared to be his own private table near a window in the front. Very cozy, he thought as he watched the couple glide across the plush carpeted floor and King pull her chair out, help her slide in, and leaning close to her neck, brushing it slightly with his cheek. Her eyelids closed and she seemed to savor the caress and smiled faintly.
King seated himself across the table from her. Tamara Wild said something to her companion and nodded toward Jack King looked over in Jack’s direction with an appraising stare, the bending closer to Tamara, they spoke lowly, occasionally glancing toward Jack’s table. Then as if arriving at a decision, King lifted his arm and motioned the hostess back. He spoke lowly to her, the girl straightened and swished over to Jack’s table. "Mr. King, requests that you join him at his table, " she said.
Jack glanced from the girl toward King, thought a moment, glanced back at the girl. "Fine," he said agreeably. "I’d be honored."
He followed her to the table. She introduced King and Tamara. She smiled at King. "Will that be all, sir?" She asked for dismissal. "Yes, thank you, May."
King stood and held out his big hand. "I understand, I am deeply indebted to you, Mr. uh.. Clayton, I believe you said, dear?" Nodding toward Tamara, not actually requesting and answer.
Jack acted a bit flustered on purpose. "I’m afraid, you have me at a disadvantage sir."
"No need to be modest. Please sit down."
Jack smiled and pulled out the chair and sat. He did not reveal his discomfort with sitting with his back to the rest of the room, something he seldom did. "Tamara has told me how you rescued her from that awful highwayman today. I am most grateful to you, sir. She is most precious to me. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her."
Tamara Wild looked a little chagrined even with her masking smile. Jack tried not to show his surprise at this sudden change and display of gratitude. "I’m just glad I could be of assistance, "Jack said, facing the girl directly. "A girl shouldn’t be too careful, you know."
"Well, I’m glad you could join us. For you anything is on the house. Are you staying here?" King asked.
"No, I’m staying down the street."
"Well, if you’d like, move over to the Palace. While you’re here, everything’s on me."
"Thank you, "Jack grinned approvingly. "I just might do that."
Tamara remained quiet while Jack and Alexander King chit chatted a bit, getting acquainted. King has insisted that Jack call him Lucky. They had ordered their meals and continued conversation while waiting arrival of the meal. Then the bombshell dropped and Jack tried to hide his surprise. "Tamara tells me, you work for the Federal government, "King stated.
How the hell, did she know that?" Clayton’s brain was spinning, astonished.
"Yes, "Tamara interjected. "He’s a mining inspector."
"What?" Jack thought to himself. "What’s going on?" He stared at Tamara, searching her face for a clue. Stone cold it was, with a smile, gazing up with her green eyes.
"I didn’t realize, I had talked so much, "Jack said, still probing her eyes, with a casual expression on his own face.
"Oh, yes, " she chided. "I thought I could never get you to shut up."
"Well, you certainly tried hard enou
gh, "He chuckled. She seemed amused. "And I must say, " he said to King, "She was mighty persuasive."
"She has that affect on me too, "King laughed. Then changing his tone ."So, Mr. Clayton, are you here to inspect my mine?"."
Clayton still looking at Tamara and reading something, "Uh…. Yeah. Among others. But yes, yours being the biggest mine in these parts, it is at the top of my list."
"Well when did you have in mind?" King asked.
Somehow there was urgency in Tamara’s nonchalance.
"I would like to get it done as soon as possible. My workload has been piling up somewhat."
"I have a grand idea, "King enthused. "How about you come out to my ranch, stay the night, and we can get an early start in the morning?"
Whoa, slow down! Jack’s mind was whirling fast, but he dared not show it. What is going on?" This was all too easy. Was he being played?" Obviously the Wild woman was playing him. Even from the start this afternoon. She probably staged that whole thing. She knew who he was all along. He remembered now, she knew about the shoulder holster. Did King know?" Probably. What about this mining inspector thing?" What was that?" If she knew that much about him, she probably knew that he was a lawyer, not an engineer. He’d have to play along. Smells like a trap though. "Sounds like a workable idea, "Jack agreed.
He glanced at Tamara. Approval was in her eyes even though invisible.
The meal and drinks came. Talk was pleasant. King talked about his ranch and mine holdings and did little to pry into Clayton’s business, which led Jack to believe that King probably knew all about him.
Dusk was settling outside when they had finished. King said he would have a surrey waiting outside while Jack would get the things he needed from his room to take with him. Jack excused himself and left the restaurant.
In the dimly lit corridor of his hotel, Jack stopped outside his room and retrieved his key from his pocket. It was still turning and clicking in the lock, when he heard a sound from inside. He drew his pistol from his shoulder harness, stood a little off to the side and threw the door open. In the gloom, he could see a man’s leg extending through the window, stepping into the room. "Hold it, right there, "Jack boomed.
The man’s leg jerked back out of the window. The sash fell back in place. Clayton raced across the room and threw up the sash. The man was not in sight. He must have pulled himself to the roof above. Holstering his gun, the G-Man twisted around shoving himself backwards through the window and reaching up to grasp a handhold on the roof.
He pulled himself up, rolled onto the roof and pushed himself to his feet, drawing his pistol again, moving swiftly but cautiously toward the ridge line. He could hear the clattering of feet on the other side.
By the time Clayton reached the apex of the roof, the sound was gone. He stood silently outlined against the fading sky for a moment listening; the cool night breeze brushing his face and flapping his coat tails.
There was a crash of cans and falling debris, in the dark alley below. He thought he could make out the dark shadow of a large man disappearing into the darkness below.
*****
Chapter Eleven
Mystery Men