Morgan turned to Lilith, his irritation obvious. “Is that right, Miss Prescott?
Did you actually agree to hire this—this gambler?” “Miss Clegg spoke of it,” she replied, honestly enough, “and it seemed the thing to do. Besides, Mr. van Valen has another friend on the train. Gabe French speaks very highly of him.”
Morgan was surprised, and doubtful. “You know Gabe French?” “Of course. As a matter of fact, we did a bit of business together once—transportation, it was. I will confess that Gabe carried most of the load, but our association was mutually satisfactory.” Somewhat reassured, Morgan nodded. “All right, then, if that’s what you want.”
He rode off toward the head of the wagon train. Lilith then turned sharply on Agatha. “Agatha! What’s gotten into you? Are you crazy?”
“He said he’d do an honest day’s work, and you an’ me have come far enough to know this here is a lot too much for us. I don’t mind rustlin’ buffalo chips an’ drivin’ a team, but takin’ them to water, stakin’ them out, an’ cuttin’ what wood a body can find, that’s too much.”
“You are right, of course.” Lilith measured Cleve with a cool eye. “One thing I promise you, Agatha. He will do his work. He’ll do it, or I’ll see that he starts riding alone—no matter where we are.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cleve said politely. “As you say, ma’am.” Dismounting, he tied his horse to the tail-gate and got up on the seat. He picked up the reins and spoke to the mules.
“Hey, you ain’t had nothing to eat!” Agatha protested. “Another time, fair lady,” Cleve replied, keeping a straight face. “My ruthless employer allows no time for such nonsense. Besides, it is time to pull out.” Cleve removed his coat and folded it carefully, and Lilith glanced at the immaculate white shirt. It would not be white for long. Before them the plains stretched wide and lonely, and the wagons rolled on over the dusty grass. Soon the spring rains would come, and Morgan wanted to have them far enough along so they would be free of the worst of the mud. Sitting behind a team of mules on a long day’s march allows time for thinking, and Cleve van Valen settled down to plan his course of action. Lilith had a gold mine and he wanted it, so the first thing he must do was to win Lilith. Yet the last thing for him to do was to seem to want her. She was no fool, and was far too worldly-wise to be easily taken in. No doubt many men had flattered her and lied to her, and she was already suspicious of him. Therefore he must avoid her.
He must do his job well, but avoid all contact with her in doing it. He must never seem to wish to be close to her, never begin a conversation with her. Also, he must be efficient at what he had to do; if he was not, he might not last long enough with the train to work out his plan. The few days of travel while the wagons were getting well out upon the prairie gave him a chance to break himself in to the life. The Cherokee had been of enormous help and, finding Cleve eager to learn, he had packed a lot of instruction into their few days together. Now, with time on his hands Cleve tried to recall everything he’d ever heard that might be useful. In the course of his traveling about and being around the frontier towns he had listened to a lot of conversation and had retained much of it, for he had a retentive memory, and he had always been interested in concrete information and facts, and he had listened well.
Odd fragments of information began to return to him, things remembered from trappers, or Indian fighters with whom he had spent long hours, gambling or talking. Fortunately, he had read a good bit, too—among other things, Washington Irving’s Tour on the Prairies and Dr. Gregg’s Commerce of the Prairies. Systematically, he began sifting his memory for whatever he could remember from those books.
The Big Blue was clear and cold when they made camp at the upper crossing. At that point the river was all of sixty yards wide. There was good grass and there was wood.
Cleve, who had planned every step he would take upon arriving at camp, swiftly unhitched the mules and stripped them of their harness; then, leaving them tied to the wagon, he got a fire going, using buffalo chips and what sticks lay at hand. Once the fire was ablaze he took the mules to water, then turned them into the rope corral with the other stock to be watched by the night guards. His own horse he picketed near the wagon.
Taking an axe, he went to the timber along the stream and cut wood for the night fire and for breakfast in the morning.
Unaccustomed as he was to such work, he found it hard. His hands blistered on the axe, and the blisters broke. During his boyhood he had often hunted or fished in the mountains of Virginia, and all through his early years he had lived an active life of riding, shooting, and fencing. But he had never done any such work as this.
When he returned to the fire with an armful of wood for morning, Agatha handed him his plate filled with food. His hands felt cramped and stiff, and she noticed the awkward way in which he accepted the plate from her. But he took the plate and walked a few yards away and sat down by himself. Lilith glanced at him curiously, but he appeared not to notice.
He had almost finished eating when he looked up, to see Roger Morgan beside him.
“Why’d you keep your horse up?”
“It seemed to me,” Cleve replied, “that if Indians stampeded our stock I’d look mighty foolish hunting them on foot.”
Morgan made no reply, but looked at him a moment, then walked over to the fire. Lighting a cigar, he stood there talking to Lilith and Agatha. After a few minutes Agatha came over to Cleve and refilled his cup. He refused another helping of food, although he could easily have eaten it. The next morning, awakening early, Cleve rolled out as soon as his eyes were open, and went at once to water his gelding. When he returned, he saddled him and tied him to the wagon wheel. Then he knelt by the fire. Stirring it up, he added fuel and put on a kettle with water. It was cold, and by the time he had the fire going he was shaking with chill. He went to the stream, bathed quickly in the cold water, dressed, and returned to the fire to add more fuel. Agatha was up, so he left the fire and went to the corral for the mules.
By the time the team was harnessed coffee was ready, and Cleve hunkered down near the fire, nursing his cup of coffee in his cold hands. Today their position was near the end of the wagon train, for the positions were changed each day, working by rotation. As he finished harnessing the mules, Cleve turned to Lilith. “Would you like to ride my horse? I don’t like him tied to the back of the wagon when we cross that river.” “Of course,” she agreed.
Taking up the lines, he turned the heavy wagon into the column. When the wagon that preceded them was well into the stream, he followed. The mules, he was pleased to see, showed no hesitation at going into the water. It was not deep at the ford, coming scarcely to the wagon bed, but he took no chances and lined up carefully on the wagon ahead and followed with care. Agatha, beside him on the seat, commented, “For a gambler, you handle a team right well.”
“I never drove very much, actually. As a youngster I drove a coach and four a few times.”
Just then from behind him there came a sharp exclamation, then a scream. He handed the reins to Agatha and, thinking of Lilith, jumped up on the seat to look around the canvas top. There was another scream, then a frantic splashing in the water, followed by a hoarse shout: “Sarah! My God, Sarah!” Looking around, he saw that the wagon following them had gone off into the deeper water beside the ledge by which they were fording the river. A large snag had entangled itself in the wagon wheels and rolled over. Thrown clear, the woman was splashing in deep water, obviously unable to swim. Cleve peeled off his boots and dove from the seat into the water. Coming up, he caught hold of a half-submerged tree and looked around quickly to locate the struggling woman. He was just in time to see Morgan extend the end of his whip to her and pull her to shore. Unnoticed by anyone, Cleve reached the bank and staggered up, dripping with water. Glancing back, he saw Roger Morgan watching him.