“The story is that he gathered a lot of nuggets. Had them sacked and ready to take out, but then the Indians located him and he had to fight his way out, leaving most of the gold behind.”
“Webb Bolin is comin’ here?”
“With two friends of his. They should be here today or tomorrow.”
Although the speakers were fifty yards away, Callaghen could hear the conversation easily. Bolin he knew, a thoroughly bad one, known to have robbed churches of their altar services, to have looted homes in Sonora, and to have killed several men. And he had a good idea who would be with him. Bigelow and Barber were two occasional horse thieves, claim jumpers, and worse, who had caused trouble in the gold fields of California and around the silver mines in Nevada.
Whatever he was going to do had better be done before their arrival, but all he wanted to do now was to get Malinda, Aunt Madge, and Beamis free. Suddenly he realized that Beamis had moved. The soldier still lay on his face, but he was more than a foot from where he had been, judging by the edge of the rock near which he was lying.
Nobody had so much as glanced at him, taking it for granted he was unconscious; but he had edged, ever so slightly toward that rock… and closer to the women. He was not only conscious, but he was alert. Though he was bound, he was obviously thinking of getting himself free and setting the women free; but he could not move much farther without being observed, unless the attention of the men at the fire were distracted.
Spencer had seated himself a dozen yards off and was holding his head in his hand. Callaghen had an idea that he had been badly frightened by his escape from death. Spencer had been a soldier only a short time, and had seen no action that Callaghen knew of.
Beamis needed some help, and he had to give it. Choosing a fist-sized stone, Callaghen hurled it so that it would fall into that deep hole beyond the fire. It flew through the air, struck a rock and rebounded, and fell into the pit. Wylie turned sharply, drawing as he turned. Spencer came half to his feet, hand grasping a rifle, but whether to run or to fight it was hard to judge.
“Something moved over there, Champ,” Wylie said.
“A rock fell. Maybe it fell by itself.” Champion got easily to his feet. “We better take a look.”
Both men disappeared among the rocks, and Callaghen, knowing there was very little time, took his long chance. He left the ground, vaulting the natural rock wall and landing lightly on the ground not ten feet from Spencer, whose back was toward him.
The soldier turned sharply around, and as he did so Callaghen took two quick steps and laid a pistol barrel back of his ear. Spencer dropped as if he had been hit with an axe.
Callaghen drew his knife with his left hand and cut through the ropes on Beamis’ hands and feet; then he tossed him the knife. “Get the women free,” he whispered hoarsely, “and get Spencer’s rifle.”
Only a minute had passed. Callaghen moved toward the rocks that shielded the descent into the hole.
He heard a foot grate on rock. “Can’t see anything,” Wylie called out.
Champion did not reply, and it was Champion who worried Callaghen. Beamis had the rifle, and Malinda and Aunt Madge were moving toward Callaghen. He pointed with his finger to indicate their direction, and stood, gun in hand, facing the opening through which Wylie and Champion had gone.
Beamis moved quickly, his rifle at the ready. For a man who wanted no part of the army, Beamis was doing well. He had the makings of a good soldier. As he closed in behind the women, Callaghen backed after them.
Suddenly Wylie came through the opening. “Spence ” he started to say. He saw the soldier, the women gone. “Champ! Look out!”
Then he turned sharply and saw Callaghen. Both men had guns drawn, but Callaghen was ready. As Wylie saw him, Callaghen shot him. One moment their eyes met. Wylie’s gun was in position, his finger tightening on the trigger as Callaghen’s bullet struck him.
He buckled at the knees, his head lolling back, then it fell forward as he toppled, dead before he hit the ground.
Callaghen went down the rocks into the hole, bounding from one rock to another.
CHAPTER 21
Behind him he heard a rash of hoofs, and somebody yelled. A bullet struck the rock over his head, showering him with fragments, but he had been only a fleeting, momentary target as he disappeared into the twisting passage with the overhanging rocks.
Malinda was waiting for him. “Are you hit?” she asked breathlessly.
“No.” He gestured up toward the place from which they had come. “But there’s somebody else up there now. It may be Webb Bolin.”
They waited, and Callaghen’s breathing returned to normal. Beamis was not in sight ahead of them, but after a few minutes he appeared. “This hole cuts clear through the mountain,” he said. “We’re in a trap if they get on the other side of us.”
They had no water here, but there was a canteen on Callaghen’s horse. “Let’s go,” he said. He was thinking about a way out, hoping to find an escape route. His pursuers would not know there were two entrances. There was a place where one could see through at the top, but unless they were close to it they could not see it.
“Let’s go,” he said again in a whisper, and led off, worming his way through the winding passage, flattening himself when necessary over boulders, to reach the far side of the mountain.
Out in the open nothing was in sight except a buzzard circling overhead. Some distance off, opposite the opening, there lifted the massive wall of a mesa… Wild Horse Mesa it was called. Ahead of them was Wild Horse Canyon.
“If anything happens to me,” Callaghen told Malinda, “try to get up on that mesa, or in the rocks close to it, and stay still.”
Mounting both women on the black horse, he led the way along the side of the mountain from which they had come. There were scattered boulders, as well as some cedar and other growth. The greasewood grew in scattered clumps, enough of them to offer a measure of concealment.
He walked swiftly, then changed to a trot. Beamis came along in the rear, constantly looking over his shoulder. Callaghen kept on, walking and trotting until they had put a mile behind them and were entering the narrower part of Wild Horse Canyon. He glanced back and heard a distant shout, but kept on going.
Beamis came up beside him. The young soldier looked nervously at the rock walls closing in on either side. “They’ll have us trapped, Sarge. We won’t have a chance.”
“It was this or open country,” Callaghen said.
Wild Horse Mesa rose seven or eight hundred feet higher than the dim trail they now were following. If they could find a trail up the mesa they might be able to defend it, but he was under no illusions. Bolin and Champion were dangerous men, as were Barber and Bigelow. And there was Spencer.
He slowed to a walk, and they plodded on. Continually, his eyes shifted to left and right.
The mountainside turned and twisted on itself. Its wall might be climbed, but to attempt it here would mean abandoning the horse, and they would likely be caught exposed on the mesa’s side. He knew they were in serious trouble. If he could cut back to the south, there was a route that might offer access to the mesa top. He turned and started up through the cedars.
How much farther could they go? Behind them were six tough men, but it was just possible they might give up. Webb Bolin might be more interested in the gold than in eliminating them, and he had not held up the stage, had not kidnapped the women and Beamis. That was Champion’s and Spencer’s problem.
The climb grew steeper. Ahead of them it led up through scattered cedar. A minor peak was on either side, but possible access to the mesa top was possible between them. Beamis was some distance behind. “Sergeant,” he said, “they’re down there all six of them!”
Callaghen led the horse into a small clump of cedars and tied it with line enough for a little grazing on the rough forage near the trees. Then he helped the women down.
There was no good defensive position here other than the natural outcroppings and scattered rocks and cedars, but it would have to do. “We might as well settle down,” he said when Beamis had joined them. “It looks as if this is where it happens.”