The hard cases he had seen ride into town were hovering over the polished bar that ran along the far side wall. They were sloshing whiskey from bottles to shot glasses and spilling the liquid haphazardly, onto the bar. A short, stocky, nervous looking bartender with a black drooping mustache and shiny bald head worked feverishly at sopping up the mess with a thick towel. No complaints were uttered by him.
Clayton slowly started to cross the floor, feeling eyes on him and not daring to glance toward the bar where the four men had interrupted their binge to watch him closely.
Jack drew abreast of the poker table, standing next to the fourth and empty chair to the left of Francy. “Mind if I sit in?” He asked tipping his hat brim up and pushing the hat to the back of his head.
“Game’s open,” Francy said brusquely, raking in the current pot and not bothering to look up. She scooped up the deck and expertly shuffled, riffled, and cut while Clayton settled into the chair. He pulled out a wad of bills from his wallet and tossed them on the table in front of him.
Francy’s slender, white, nimble fingers slid the bills in front of her, flipped through them with a lightning count, and slid the appropriate amount of chips in front of him. Clayton smiled slightly. She was amazing.
Jack stayed in the game about half an hour. He would have to quit soon and get ready for the miner’s meeting.. Besides, Francy had managed to retrieve most of his chips by now and what was remaining sat in the center of the table with the current pot. The hand was played out and Francy pulled the pot in and heaped these additional chips onto her pile. She smiled, more than a hint of triumph at Jack. He grimaced, then slid his chair back and stood up. “Well, I guess that about does it for me. So, if you all will excuse,me….Gentlemen and lady.” He straightened his hat.
“Better luck next time, Cowboy,” Francy chided, not bothering to look up at him.
“Yeah…sure,” Clayton’s adam’s apple bobbed. “Next time.” He turned and headed for the door.
Out of the corner of his eye, he checked to see that the four hardcases were still watching him. He could see movement as they started to turn from the bar. He kept striding forward, casually, trying not to let on he knew they were following him.
It was completely dark, now as he stepped out into the cool night air. Street fires had been lit at regular intervals along the street, bringing a flickering golden glow to the evening and casting dark shadows . The street was empty, save for the horses tied to hitch rails as the townspeople had already retreated indoors for the night.
The men were moving faster behind him now, not so careful to be noticed as they were inside Jack had just stepped off the board walk into the street when they rush him, attacking from behind, all four tackling him and grinding his face and chest into the dusty street. Jack tried to react and roll, but there were too many of them. Fists pounded into his face and midsection. Everything went blurry on him and he felt sick. The rangy one that appeared to be the leader, reached under Jack’s collar and pulled. him to his feet. “Stand back!” he ordered his men, cocking his arm, ready to drive his fist into Clayton’s drooping face while he held him up on rubbery, sagging legs. The other three men stepped back out of the way, standing in a semi circle around him.
“Hey! What’s going on here!” A commanding voice boomed over the drum of horses hooves as six riders pulled their horses to a halt in the middle of the street behind the assailants.
“Let that man, go!” shouted Colonel Montrose, sliding from the shiny black leather military saddle of his tall gray horse. He punched his cane into the dirt and hopped forward to Clayton’s side and grasping his shoulders as he was released and slumped into The Colonel’s arms.
The other riders had dismounted and a tall, heavy set man in a tweed suit rushed up and spun the lead assailant around. “What’s the meaning of this, Rio?” He barked. “Don’t you know who this is? It’s Tom Ragan. He’s been sent here to help us.”
“Well, boss,” he stammered, “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know! You dumb ox!” He landed a round house punch on Rio Pierce’s scruffy jaw and sent him sprawling onto his back in the middle of the street.
Rio slowly sat up in the dirt, glaring angrily at his boss and rubbing his jaw.
Jack was getting his feet stabilized beneath him now and his brain was beginning to clear. “Thanks, Colonel,” Clayton gasped, rubbing his throat and beginning to catch his breath.
“Sorry about my men, Mr. Clayton,” the big man apologized as he came forward to help steady the beaten man. Jack looked up into the man’s broad face and glinting eyes. “I’m Ben Colby,” the big man said as if answering Clayton’s unasked question. “I assure you, I will deal with them for this. They get mean when they drink.” Then added, “Are you all right?”
Jack was quickly pulling himself together. He shrugged Colby and the Colonel aside and stepped back to stand on his own steam. “Yeah,” His voice rasped with bitterness and anger. He glared at Rio sitting in the dirt. “But, I won’t forget this.”
The lawyer Arnold Daggett was a short, skinny, actually puny, little middle aged man with thinning black strands of hair slicked back from a high forehead and receding hair line. His pince nez glasses, hanging low on his hooked nose only emphasized his birdlike, that is, vulture like face. His voice was high pitched and squeaky even though he tried to talk with an oily ease as he lounged back carelessly in his black leather chair behind his cluttered walnut desk. Jack Clayton was a lawyer himself and took an instant dislike to him, for this man was the typical stereotype of a shyster lawyer.
The meeting with the mine owners had been in progress now for about a half hour and the situation with the raiders and the Dark Rider had been discussed in depth, though no solutions nor plan of action had been offered. The general consensus was that they were glad that ‘Tom Ragan’ was there to help them and they had complete confidence in his abilities.
Jack was feeling better now, having somewhat recovered from the beating he had suffered from Rio Pierce and the other Colby men. When Jack and the miners arrived for the meeting, ‘Sue Gordon’ was still in conference with Daggett, as she had been substantiating her claim to her uncle’s share of the Glory Hill mine and discussing her concerns about the mine’s troubles. Daggett had asked Sheriff Mort Dooley to stay and explain things from his perspective.
The mine owners had been introduced to the red haired girl and the Colonel suggested that she stay for the meeting, after all she was a mine owner too. The miners then took seats in wooden chairs cloistered about the unimpressive law office. Ben Colby oozed charm from the moment he met ‘Sue Gordon’. “I am so sorry about what happened to your uncle, Miss Gordon. Although, I didn’t work with him very long, I grew to be quite fond of the old gentlemen,” His words flowed fluidly and smooth in an elegant, soothing voice. He seemed very honest and genuine. “We all miss him, very much.”
“I’m sure you do,” she replied, sadness in her voice and glancing sideways out of the corner of her eye to Jack. She didn’t believe a word of it. She smiled demurely at Colby.
He beamed with self satisfaction.
As the meeting was breaking up, Colonel Montrose asked, “Are you staying here in town tonight, Miss Gordon.”
“I suppose so,” she answered, “I really haven’t taken time to get a room ,though. If I can find away to my uncle’s house, I suppose I could go there.”
“Well, I’ve been staying at your uncle’s since I came here,” Ben Colby said, “and I’m still staying there. I can take you out there, and I’ll find someplace else to stay while you are here. Since I’m a bachelor, it might not look proper for you and me to be out there alone together, although I assure you, I am a gentleman.”
“I’m sure you are, Mr. Colby,” she replied sweetly. “But I don’t think I’m ready to see the house yet. Especially, not tonight. I think it best I stay in town for awhile.”
“My wife and I would be pleased if you consented to stay with us, Miss Go
rdon,” Colonel Montrose offered.
“That’s awfully nice of you sir, but really I couldn’t..” The tone left room for acceptance.
“Nonsense. I won’t hear of it. You’re staying with us. It will be good to have a young person in the house again. My wife and I have been so lonely since….” His voice trailed off, sorrow in his eyes.
“Well, alright,” she stammered. “If you insist.” She smiled broadly. Jack caught the sense of a coup well pulled off.
“That settles it, then,” the Colonel said triumphantly. “I’ll rent a rig at the livery and we’ll drive out right away. I don’t suppose you’ve even had supper?”
Tamara nodded, “As a matter of fact, I haven’t,” she admitted.
“Well, Ethel with take care of that,” He beamed taking her arm and escorting her out of the office.
Jack was still standing, his hat in hand and watching them go. The room had mostly cleared out by now. Mort and most of the other miners had already left. Only Clayton, Colby, and Daggett remained. Jack started for the door, settling his black Stetson into place over his dark wavy hair.
“Just a minute,” Colby called. Jack turned, his hand still on the door knob of the partially open door. “I think we need to talk,” he said brusquely, a tinge of command in his voice.
Jack pulled his dark brows close together, pondered a moment, then pushed the door shut and sauntered across the room to face Colby head on. Colby stood a few inches taller than Jack. Clayton said nothing. Waited.
“Just what happened between you and Rio Pierce?” He demanded.
“I didn’t even know who he was when he jumped me. You’d better ask him.” Jack answered grimly.
Colby cocked his head back, thought a moment and grimaced. “Arnie,” He nodded his large head toward the lawyer. “Get Rio in here. We need to get this straightened out.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Colby,” the runt answered, jumping to his feet, grabbing his derby hat and nervously scurrying out the door.
“How much did the boss tell you?” Colby demanded.
Boss? Jack thought. Here it comes. Time to play along. Tom Ragan knows this boss? Play along!
“Not much,” Jack admitted. “You know I’ve been working the other end of the pipeline along the border.” He was taking a chance that he was saying the right things to the right person.
“Yeah, he tells me you are good at what you do.”
Just what does Tom Ragan do so well? Jack said, “I try.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Colby all but growled. “And I don’t want any more trouble with my men. You got that?”
“That’s up to them,” Clayton shot back coldly.
“No,” he said icily. “That is up to me.” He spun around and paced away from Jack, stopped short, and turned back to face him again, rubbing the back of his thick neck.
“And now we’ve got this problem of the Gordon girl showing up. We’ve got to do something about it.”
Meaning? Jack thought without saying. He waited. Colby stared him down, refusing to say it also.
Jack nodded. “When do you want it done?” He remarked matter of factly.
“Might as well get it over with as soon as possible.” He half grinned and chuckled slyly. “The raiders just may not like the Colonel organizing against them and they just might attack him on the way home in the dark tonight. It would be a shame if that innocent young girl happened to get killed with him.”
Jacked hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt and smiled with feigned admiration at Colby’s cunning, nodding his approval.
“And I’ll get to see just how good you really are?” Colby added.
Just then the door opened and Daggett clamored inside with Rio Pierce on his heels.
“Pierce, shut that door and get over here,” Colby blustered.
Rio shuffled forward.
“I want to know why you jumped Ragan and it better be good.”
“Well like I said, boss. I didn’t know who he was. Besides he busted up the stage holdup this afternoon. He’s the reason we didn’t get the girl and Al and Shorty are both nursing gunshot wounds from this hombre’s lead.” He looked accusing at Clayton.
Colby’s eyes grew grim and he glared at Jack. “Is that true?”
Jack shrugged, “I guess it is,” he admitted calmly. “But how was I to know what was going on. I was with the sheriff and we saw the Dark Rider leading the outfit. I had to go with Dooley’s lead,” He lied a little. Then added with surprise, “So, you are the Dark Rider?” He grinned at Rio.
“No he’s not the Dark Rider,'’ Colby fumed with agitation. “That hellion has caused us so much trouble, we decided to start pinning our jobs on him. Seems to have worked though, because he’s been lying low for the last week. Things must be getting too hot for him.”
Clayton feigned more admiration. “Very clever, Mister Colby,” he said. “I heard you were a very clever man. Now I see it’s true.”
Colby’s manner seemed to lighten up. He loved the adulation. “Well what’s done is done, I guess. I don’t suppose it could have been helped.” Then to Rio, “I don’t want any more trouble between you two, got that?”
“Yeah, boss,” Pierce answered reluctantly. “But What about Al and Shorty. They need a Doc.”
“Maybe the raiders hit us tonight and the boys got wounded. They can come in to town in the morning to get patched up.” Colby smiled to himself with self satisfaction. “But right now,” he changed the topic. “You two have to work together, starting tonight. The two of you are following the Colonel. Neither he nor the girl will ever be seen alive again. You got that.”
This time Rio smiled broadly with anticipation. “Yessir , boss.”
Cold blooded killer, Clayton thought without changing expression.
****
CHAPTER 10
AMBUSH AT BRIAR PASS
Clayton and Rio sat atop their horses in the shadows of an alley, watching and waiting for the Colonel to drive his rented rig out of town with the girl at his side. The night air was turning colder and Jack wished he had had time to get a jacket, but that would have entailed returning to the jail for his bag and he didn’t want to give Rio any cause for suspicion.
Finally the rig emerged from the livery and rolled down the darkened street. They waited until the team and wagon had completely disappeared from sight, allowing them to get a good head start before angling their mounts out of the shadows and slowly riding at a walking pace, following their quarry out of town. They were completely unaware of the eyes watching them go and of the shadowy figure that was about to set out on their trail, also.
Clayton and Rio followed the trail for a while, keeping well behind and out of sight of the Colonel’s team. Stars twinkled brilliantly in the clear, crisp purple sky, casting a silvery glow on the grassy meadows and revealing the jagged, mountainous horizon far to the east and making night travel an easy task.
Although Clayton had been to the Colonel’s home, just this afternoon, he would not have been able to find his way back, especially in the dark. Rio knew the country well and knew the route the Colonel would be taking. After a few minutes of following the trail, Rio motioned for them to swing off the road to cut cross country angling their mounts up the dew covered grassy slopes until they topped a ridge overlooking the trail through Briar Pass to Antelope Valley.
Down below, they could see the Colonel’s rig lumbering along, the team pulling at a steady even gait. Jack knew this was a good place for an ambush. As the pass narrowed, the wagon, horses, and passengers would be confined to a straight ahead route and less likely to be able to evade attackers.
Directly below them now, Rio and Jack could plainly see the Colonel and the girl on the wagon seat. Jack knew this was his job, so he had to appear to take the lead. He pulled his six shooter from its holster and holding it high, he said to Rio. “Let’s do it!” and kicked the big red stallion in the ribs, sending him sliding on the wet grass down the slope toward the trail.
> Rio, taken by surprise of Jack’s sudden action, pulled his pistol and pushed his horse recklessly behind him.
The Colonel saw the movement on the slope to his right. He whipped up the reins and shouted, ”Heeah!” sending the team into a galloping dead run. Clayton opened fire, although out of range for a pistol. The shot thundered across the valley, echoing against the far hills. The Colonel stood up in the wagon, whipping the team to a faster frenzied speed. Tamara let out a scream, clutching the seat rail with a death grip, trying to maintain her balance as the rig slewed left and right along the winding, bumpy trail.
Jack, urging the big red forward with heels drumming against his powerful rib cage, was closing the gap now. He was well within sixgun range now. He fired again, too high to hit a mark, making sure that he only made noise and doing no damage. Rio was pushing his mount hard and was pulling up abreast of Jack. Rio fired again. Then again as Jack’s horse veered almost into him forcing his shot to go wild..
Then with surprise, a rifle blasted and Rio felt a slug plow into the top of his left shoulder. He wobbled in the saddle, pulling his horse up sharply slowing its pace to an unsteady cantor. He clutched at the bleeding gaping hole with his right hand, still grasping his shooter and looked to the rim of the pass directly ahead and off to the left where the shot had come from. There, outlined against the moon, a black hooded figure aboard a completely black horse fired again, a bullet plowed into the ground in front of Rio’s horse. Then another.
Clayton, realizing what was happening, slowed his horse, looking back at his companion. The shrouded figure on the rim fired again. A lead pellet drilled the earth in front of Jack’s horse. He jerked the stallion back and another slug kicked up the dirt where the steed had just been standing a moment ago. He quickly wheeled the big stallion, churning the sod in a furious scramble and headed back toward the wounded Rio.
The rifle barked again and again as Jack raced along side of Rio, reaching for his reins. “Hang on!” He shouted as he plucked the reins from Pierce’s grasp, and pulled his horse around to lead him off at a gallop. Rio swayed in the saddle, hanging onto the saddle horn with both hands as he had already dropped his gun somewhere in the grass.