Escape From Gold Mountain Page 5
“Then you can give me my pay for the work I’ve done and I’ll move on. I’ve no interest in any of your future schemes.”
Charley stepped forward and grabbed Luke’s arm. “No. I’ll pay you after one last job.”
Luke jerked his arm out of Charley’s grip and grabbed the handle of his knife. Hate spewed from his eyes as he spat out his threat. “Don’t you ever touch me again, Charley Jardine. Just give me what you owe me. I’m leaving.” Out of the corner of his eye he watched Tex reach back for his pistol, but the big gunman said nothing.
Charley issued a high-pitched laugh and shook his head. “Do you seriously think I carry the money on me? No. It’s in a safe hidey-hole where you’ll not find it. You’ll get your share of what you’ve already earned plus a cut of the next job.”
Luke stepped back to put distance between him and the man. His regard for Charley Jardine had sunk from distrust to despise. “What you two do can get a man stuck in prison the rest of his life or hung. I want no part of it.”
Charley cajoled. “Now, Shorty, how can sitting in a saloon and watching the stagecoach leave get you jailed or hung? There’s no crime in that, eh? That’s all you need to do.”
Luke narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “I know you well enough to know there’s more to it than that. Why don’t you sit in the saloon yourself and watch the stagecoaches come and go?”
“Because it’s best if I’m nowhere near town at the time. People know me. As for you, you haven’t been to Lundy, right?”
Luke felt an invisible rope cinching tight around him, ready to jerk him off his feet the same as when he caught the cattle he had helped these men rustle. Charley and Tex had snared him with their threats of either violence at their hands or being reported to the sheriff as an outlaw. Now, they were setting him up for a new scheme—one he knew meant trouble. Luke slowly shook his head. Staring at Tex’s hand hovering over his pistol, he could feel the steel teeth of another trap ready to snap shut on him. “No. I haven’t been to Lundy.”
“Then you’re the right man, eh? You hang out by the Pioneer Saloon to see who boards the Lundy to Bodie stage. When you see a bunch of Chinamen put a Chinawoman on, that’s when you come tell us. Word is she’s leaving Friday, but the two spreading the news might not be the brightest candles in the room. If they’re off by a day or two, and we’re too early or too late, it’ll ruin everything.”
Luke shook his head. “I’ll not be party to you hurting or robbing a woman, not even a Chinawoman.”
“It’s not the woman we’re interested in. It’s what travels on the stage with her.”
Luke slammed his fist on his saddle, causing his mild-mannered mare to snort and hop to the side. A repentant Luke reached for her reins and stroked her withers to calm her as he turned back to Charley. “I won’t be part of a stagecoach robbery, Charley. If you aren’t after the woman, then my guess there’s a payload on the stage you want. My answer’s still no. I’d be better off taking the supplies I bought today and going my own way.”
Luke turned towards Tex as the sound of a gun hammer being cocked reached his ear. The big man leaned forward, one forearm resting on his thigh and the gun in the other aimed at Luke’s chest. “The only place y’all are headed for is six feet under unless y’all do what Charley says. I don’t got a hankering to walk into no bad situation because someone changed their plans. Charley’s not asking much of y’all, but it needs to be done.”
Silence reined for several seconds before Charley again spoke. “I assure you, Shorty, you’ll not be doing anything illegal. Just watch for the stage carrying the Chinawoman. When it leaves, come tell us. After that, you come back here.
Luke suppressed his snort of disbelief. Aware of the pistol still pointed at him, he silently cursed his stupidity for allowing himself to get mixed up with this pair. He stumbled into this mess, thinking he could control the situation and leave when he chose. Now he knew, the longer he stayed with them, the greater the risk of his involvement being discovered and him being branded an outlaw.
No matter how desperately he desired to avoid Charley’s latest scheme, Luke also knew he needed the money Charley kept promising him. “Lundy is a hard day’s ride each way.”
“Yeah, that’s why we need to get an early start in the morning. Leave your ax here, because we’ll have no need of it. We’ll hole up at Geneva on the other side of the lake from Lundy while you head up to town. Tex and I will wait on word from you. We’ll all meet back here. Then you’ll get your money—all of it—and you can be on your way, eh?”
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Chapter 6
~o0o~
Lundy, California ~ September 18, 1884
L uke squatted and leaned his back against the outside front wall of the Pioneer Saloon. He sipped his coffee as he watched the livery across the street. On Wednesday, there had been no passengers departing on the stagecoach, only small freight and mail. Passengers only arrived the day before on Thursday, the second full day he had been in town. This day was Friday, the day Charley Jardine claimed someone had told him the Chinese woman was scheduled to leave. Two men already boarded the coach, but so far, no one looking like a Chinese passenger had shown up.
Luke began to suspect he had been sent to Lundy on a fool’s errand to get him out of the way so Charley could avoid paying him for the work he had done with the cattle. He took another sip of coffee that was quickly cooling. At least he had the bulk of the supplies Charley had ordered him to purchase as well as the ax he refused to leave behind.
A commotion on Third Street caught Luke’s attention. Coming from the direction of the Chinese houses on Clark Street, two Chinese men and a woman walked around the corner and headed toward the entrance to the livery yard. One man carried a small valise and the other supported the elbow of the woman who walked with difficulty.
Luke studied the woman closer. She wore full black trousers and a thick, black quilted jacket made in the Chinese style with a high neckline and a front angled closing on one side. Three buttons, starting at the base of her throat and slanting down to her right sleeve, held it closed. A black cap trimmed with white braid covered her hair. She wore boots with small heels on her feet. She shuffled with quick, small steps in an effort to keep up with the longer strides of the man who held her elbow.
Luke squinted to better focus his eyesight. There was something wrong with her feet. She was a small woman. From what he had seen in San Francisco’s Chinatown, the Chinese tended to be a shorter, slighter-built people than Westerners. Still, her feet looked like they belonged to a younger child. While he had been in San Francisco, he had heard how some Chinese bound up the feet of young girls to keep them from growing to full size. He wondered if that explained why she seemed unable to walk with ease.
The man guiding her jerked her arm forward. Even from across the street Luke could see the angry glance she gave the man before she lowered her eyes to the ground. Luke received a quick glimpse of her features which he found different, but pleasing. She might be a painted lady when she was with customers, but she wore no powder or rouge this day.
The trio walked up to the side of the stagecoach. A white man, possibly the stage driver, opened the door. The man guiding the woman steadied her as she mounted the steps to enter the vehicle. As soon as both of her feet were inside, he shoved her arm, causing her to fall onto a bench across from the other two male passengers. The other Chinese man quickly tossed the valise in after her. The first Chinese man handed the driver a piece of paper and signaled his companion to close the door. Without saying anything, both Chinese men turned to walk back the way they came.
Luke stood and stepped to the end of the boardwalk. He tossed out the dregs of his coffee as he returned to where he had tied his horse. He decided to forego watching the vehicle actually leave. He needed to ride to Geneva before the conveyance left town so he could assure Charley and Tex that the Chinawoman boarded the Friday stagecoach
. Then he planned to wait for the pair to return to the hideout, collect his money, and leave the region for good.
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Chapter 7
~o0o~
Mill Creek Canyon, California ~ September 18, 1884
A s Tex waited by the road that threaded its way along Mill Creek Canyon, he reviewed in his mind the plan he and Charley had put together. It still struck him as being solid. It was not rustling beeves, an activity with which he was more familiar and more adept, nor was it stagecoach robbery, which he had done several times in the past. This was the first time he would actually take a passenger off the stagecoach and take her with him. However, it should prove to be a good money-maker, especially for him. Charley hired him to actually carry out the deed and promised one hundred dollars extra before the balance of the money was split. Tex had refused to agree to anything different since he was the one taking most of the risk. Charley knew if C.F. “Charlie” Hector, the owner of the stagecoach, was driving that day, he would recognize his horse and probably him. It was agreed between Tex and Charley that Charley would stay out of sight while Tex held up the stage. Only after the coach had moved on and Tex and the Chinawoman were safely away would Charley join up with Tex.
Now that Shorty had assured them the Chinawoman was on that day’s stagecoach, it appeared the plan could not fail. He and Charley planned to take the Chinawoman and her baggage far enough from the road so that they could check her for a money belt and go through her trunks. Next, they would head back to the hideout where, hopefully, Shorty would have hot food ready. Afterwards, they would split up the money and each go his own way.
The take would land them with enough to get them over the long winter typical of the eastern Sierra Nevada Mountain region. Even though Shorty would get the least of any of them, he should have nothing to complain about. The job Charley had given Shorty to do was minimal, but important. Tex had refused to stop the stage unless he knew for sure the date spoken of in the saloon gossip was right, which was why Charley decided to keep Shorty around for one last job.
Charley had been all for short-changing Shorty. Tex persuaded him it was smarter to see Shorty received enough money to satisfy him. He would then have no reason to stick around and cause problems. Tex preferred not to resort to murder. However, one way or the other, he wanted Shorty to leave quietly and never return.
Tex heard the stagecoach before he saw it. The time for him to do his part had arrived. Just as the stage rounded the bend at the bottom of the lake, Tex nudged his horse forward. He drew both pistols and fired off a shot to stop the stage. With a steep cliff to the north and a dense thicket of aspen trees to the south on the narrow bank of Mill Creek, the stagecoach had nowhere to go. The driver pulled the horses to a stop.
Jardine was wrong. It was not Hector driving the stage. Tex recognized the new driver as one of the Waltze brothers from Bridgeport. He just hoped the man did not recognize him through his disguise.
Tex called out to the driver. “Set the brake and get your hands in the air, driver.”
Andrew Waltze obeyed. He reached into the boot, pulled out the strongbox, and tossed it on the ground. “Here it is. Nothing in here I’m willing to defend with my life.”
Keeping his gun trained on Waltze, Tex dismounted. He knew he had no room on his horse to carry the strongbox plus the woman. “Not interested in y’all’s strongbox. Only want the one passenger and everything she brought with her. As long as y’all don’t make any move until I say, y’all can go soon as I get what I came for.”
“Her? You mean the Chinawoman? She didn’t bring a trunk, only a valise. All she brought is inside with her.”
A bad feeling descended on Tex. If she was traveling with as much money as Charley claimed, how did it and all her belongings fit in a travel valise? He decided to worry about it later. For now, he needed to finish the job.
Tex stepped to the side of the coach. He jerked the door open. Both men on the bench facing forward shrank back from the pistol he shoved through the opening.
Sitting in the center of the opposite seat, her hands clasping the top of a reticule resting in her lap, sat the prize. She was dressed in baggy Chinese clothes. The black cap with its white braid trim that covered most of her hair failed to hide the round cheeks and shape of her face that marked her as Chinese. Her eyes, though slits in her face compared to the eyes of Western women, stared at him, wide with terror.
Tex holstered one pistol and grabbed the small woman’s arm. He jerked her towards the opening and all but dumped her on the ground. Ignoring her whimper, he reached for the valise that she had tucked behind her legs and pulled it out of the stagecoach. Turning to her, he used his free hand to pull her to her feet. “Get up, Chinawoman. Y’all’s coming with me. Now shut up about it.”
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Chapter 8
~o0o~
L oi suppressed her cry of distress. She struggled to stay on her feet and keep up with the big American who pulled her from the stage, then jerked her through the roots and tangled grasses towards the side of his horse. She clamped her lips together and forced herself to remain silent. She recalled her mother’s teaching that it was the lot of women to “swallow bitterness.” She had been swallowing bitterness for the past several years, ever since discovering that she had not been brought to America to be the wife of one Chinese man. Now, in the hands of this massive white Western man, she feared she would be required to swallow a new kind of bitterness.
The big man frightened her. Even though she had been with several large Westerners, this one, with his height, his massive arms, and thick barrel chest particularly intimidated her.
Because of the cloth that covered his nose and mouth, and the hat he wore pulled low on his forehead, she could not tell if he wore a thick beard below his beaky nose. However, she could see his round eyes. Although they were brown, they held no comfort. They were almost as frightening as those belonging to some of the men she had been required to service with eyes the color of the sky, or the storm clouds, or river water. Those eyes were not human, but looked like they belonged to demons sent to plague mankind—to plague her.
Some of the Americans that had been brought to her had told her to shut up the times she had flinched or cried out from being crushed by their size or rough handling. They often used words she had not learned at the Christian mission. However, she had quickly figured out their intent.
The look in this man’s eyes told Loi he was a hoodlum, as bad as any Chinese hatchet man. She had no idea why he stole her from the stagecoach, only that he had come for her and not the money kept in the strongbox under the driver’s feet. If he made demands of her, she didn’t know how she would bear up under it. How would she swallow this new bitterness and live?
~o0o~
Tex, annoyed that the woman could not run any faster than she did, glared down at her with frustration. His brow wrinkled with consternation. Her Chinese boots covered feet so small they appeared to belong to a child. Unwilling to be held back by a woman who could hardly walk, let alone run, he grabbed her around her waist and carried her.
Tex felt the woman’s body grow stiff as a pine log. He could hear her panicked breathing, but at least she did not scream. And he wanted her to stay quiet. He growled his warning. “Keep your trap shut.” He hoped she would understand his intent, if not his words.
Once he reached his horse, Tex hooked the valise’s handles to his saddle horn. Grabbing the woman around her waist, he hoisted himself in the saddle and unceremoniously half-tossed his captive behind him, He twisted around and reached for her. He forced the woman’s legs apart so they straddled the horse. At least she wore trousers, something, in his opinion, no self-respecting white woman would wear while traveling by stagecoach. Tex’s gaze took in her thin legs encased in black silk fabric stockings that showed below the hem of her pants. They disappeared inside the tops
of felt boots. As he picked up his reins, Tex grabbed her hand and pulled it around his middle. He kept hold of her one hand to discourage her from getting any ideas about jumping off the horse. He soon realized he need not worry she might attempt an escape. He could feel her arms cinch around his middle as she clung to him, obviously afraid of falling.
Tex spun his horse around to face the stagecoach. “Get on out of here, driver, and keep moving. Don’t stop and don’t head back to town if y’all value your life. She’s not worth getting shot.”
With that, Tex turned his mount and plunged down into the foliage of the ravine until the trees hid him and his horse from anyone traveling the road up Mill Creek Canyon.
~o0o~
Swearing aloud, Andrew Waltze climbed down from the driver’s seat long enough to retrieve the strongbox before he resumed the journey down the canyon. He knew until he almost reached the road following the Mono Lake shoreline, the narrow wagon trail prevented him from turning his team around. The more he considered his options, the less he felt inclined to force his horses back up the mountain to Lundy to inform Bill Callahan, the deputy sheriff there, of the abduction. Ever since the closing of the May Lundy Mine and the May Lundy Millworks, business had started to dwindle and crime increased. Miners and shopkeepers alike were leaving Lundy, and hardly anyone was paying for stagecoach service, especially with winter around the corner. Andrew suspected when Hector hired him, the man was getting ready to pull out of the stagecoach business completely.
Andrew hadn’t signed on to get held up by road agents abducting passengers off the stage. It would take him several hours, but his arrival at Bodie would be soon enough to telegraph Lundy and notify Callahan.