the High Graders (1965) (19 page)

The obvious thing to do was to turn and walk bac k down the drift the way he had come. If he di d so, his presence might be passed off as a harmles s exploring of an old mine-working. Under th e circumstances it was highly improbable, but it jus t might work. On the other hand, would the hidden watche r allow him to go? Might he not shoot at an y moment?

Shevlin started to turn away when h e heard, from down the drift, along the way he himsel f had come, the sound of boots. Someone was coming towar d him, someone who could be no great distance away.

Quickly, Shevlin turned and went up the drif t toward the main working of the mine, and he had gone n o more than fifty feet before he came to another ro w of four ore chutes and a manway.

There was only time to observe that the dust on th e ladder was undisturbed, and then he was climbing , swiftly and silently. Not thirty feet above , he entered a stope where the ore had been mined out an d shot down from overhead. Crawling over th e heaped-up rock, he crouched down in a smal l hollow and waited, listening.

The place where he had chosen to hide was right a t the top of an empty chute where his slightes t movement might be heard below, but where he himself coul d hear what went on down there. He heard th e distant footsteps, then came a pause.

Watching over the rim of the chute, his own ligh t placed on the muck well behind him, he saw th e faint movement of the walker's light, but he hear d no voices.

What of the man behind the gun? Was he equall y unknown to whoever had come along the tunnel?

Suddenly, he heard a faint gasp, and then th e rustle of clothing. Someone whose feet and legs h e could see, scurried past the chute and stepped into th e space between that chute and the next. Shevlin could hea r again the rustle of denim against the framework of th e chute. And then, very faintly, he heard still othe r steps.

This was impossible, and yet it was happening.

Three men were now in hiding in the old mine-workin g all within a few yards of the great plank door!

The new steps came on, hesitated, the n continued on again. They, too, paused when the y faced that solidly framed door. Breathing ever s o faintly, Shevlin watched over the edge of th e chute, watched the reflection of distant light; i n a moment whoever it was who held the light came o n up the drift that ran past the chutes.

Suddenly, the man below stirred, and steppe d quickly out into the tunnel.

"Well, now. Fancy seein' you here!" That wa s Ben Stowe's voice. "A mine is no plac e for a lady. Would you mind tellin' me what you'r e lookin' for?"

"Oh! You frightened me. Aren't you Be n Stowe?" It was Laine Tennison wh o spoke. "I've never been in a mine before--there'
s so much I'd like to know, and I don't believ e Dr. Clagg would have the time to show me around. Woul d you tell me about the mine, Mr. Stowe? Fo r instance, what are these things?"

She craned her neck and looked up the chute , and there was an instant when Mike Shevlin was sur e she had seen him, just an instant before he pulled hi s head back.

"That's an ore chute," Stowe answered. "Th e rock is shot down off the walls and roof up ther e in the stope, and then pulled out of that chute into a ca r and trammed--pushed--outside."

His boots shifted on the rock below.

"Ma'am," he went on, "what are you doing in thi s mine? What's your business here?"

"Business? Oh, I've no business here , Mr. Stowe. I just saw the tunnel and though t I'd look in. Do they mine gold here? O
r is it silver? I don't know very much about mining , I'm afraid, but it all looks very exciting."

"How do you happen to be out here, anyway?"

"Here? Oh, you mean in the canyon? I wa s looking for Mr. Shevlin. Dr. Clagg wante d to see him; and Mrs. Clagg and I ... well , we thought we would invite him for supper. He's ver y good-looking--don't you think so, Mr. Stowe?"

"I never noticed." Ben Stowe was obviousl y puzzled, and Shevlin could scarcely restrain a chuckle. She was trying, trying hard, but would i t work? Would she appear so much the rattle-braine d female that Stowe would let her go?

"You're very handsome yourself, Mr. Stowe. Would yo u like to come to supper? It's nothing fancy. I mean , well, after all it's just supper, not a dinner o r anything fancy. So you'd have to take potluck, bu t I do so admire western men, and I don't kno w if I'll find Mr. Shevlin, but even if I d o, you're welcome. In fact, we'd simpl y adore having you."

Stowe started to speak, but she gave him n o chance. "Why, just the other day Dottie was saying--Dottie, that's Mrs. Clagg--that she couldn'
t understand why some girl hadn't set her cap for you.

You're so successful and all."

"Ma'am, where'd you get that candle?" was Be n Stowe's response. "Looks to me like you cam e fixed for looking at mines."

"Oh, this? I found it in that cabin there , Burt Parry's cabin. I didn'
t think he'd mind if I--you don't think he'
d mind do you, Mr. Stowe? I mean, I jus t borrowed it. I'll put it right back where I f ound it." She paused only a moment.

"Mr. Stowe ... or may I call you Ben?

Would you take me back to town? I mean, it mus t be getting dark outside, and if you would take m e home I'd be ever so glad ... I mean, i t wouldn't be too much trouble, would it?"

"No, no trouble," Stowe answered.

Mike Shevlin, crouching, his legs cramped an d aching, heard their footsteps retreating down th e drift. He waited for what he felt was a safe time, and then, with great care to make no sound , he straightened up, took up his cap, and walke d to the manway. All was dark and still down below.

Softly, he went down the ladder and tiptoe d along the drift.

Far down the tunnel he could see two bobbin g lights. After waiting until they disappeared, h e crept forward. With gun in hand, h e deliberately looked toward the cross-cut wher e he had seen the rifle muzzle. It was gone.

Scrambling up the pile of muck, he peere d over behind it. There was a snug nest among th e rocky debris that had been pitched into th e tunnel, and scattered here and there among the rock s were crumbs and bits of food. Someone had bee n waiting here for quite some time; perhaps, by the look of th e place, for days or even weeks.

Where had this person gone? Had he slippe d away down the drift while Ben Stowe talke d to Laine? It seemed to be the only explanation , for if the heavy door had been opened it woul d surely have made some sound, or some change in th e draught of air moving through the mine.

At the opening of the tunnel, his light snubbe d out, Mike Shevlin paused and waited, listening , but he heard no sound.

He stepped outside, and not until he was besid e his horse did he allow himself to take a long , deep breath of the clean, fresh air. It was goo d to be alive ... very good indeed.

And then he thought of Laine Tennison. Be n Stowe was a sharp customer ... how long would he b e fooled? Or was he fooled at all?

Perhaps even now ...

Chapter
16

Mike Shevlin checked his Winchester and shove d it down in the boot. Then he started his hors e down the canyon. He was thinking that the man behind tha t muck pile in the cross-cut must have been Bur t Parry. Not a word had passed between him and Be n Stowe ... did Stowe know he was there?

And then Shevlin went on to think of his rea l problem. How could he get the gold from behind tha t door? First, he would have to get rid of Bur t Parry, somehow; and if Parry had been chose n to guard that gold he must be a more salty custome r than he appeared to be.

With Parry out of the way, the door would have to b e blasted open, or cut open with an axe ... an d then what? A half-million in gold, if that wa s what there was in there, is not a matter to be handled wit h ease. Gold is heavy, and a half-millio n isn't something you put in your pocket.

Darkness was upon him now; the stars came out, and a low wind blew from off the sagebrush levels wher e the cattle grazed. Somewhere ahead of him wer e Laine Tennison and Ben Stowe.

Eve Bancroft, Gib Gentry, and Lo n Court were dead, all killed since he ha d arrived in town, and yet the problem of the gold wa s no nearer a solution. Ben Stowe still sa t snugly in his office, surrounded by his miners , who were gunfighters.

And back of all this was the major mystery: Wh o had killed Eli Patterson?

Lights were shining in the windows when Shevli n rode into town. He sta4 his horse, and starte d over to the Bon Ton. He was dead-tired, an d hungry. No matter what, he was going to ea t now, and then he was going to his room in th e Nevada House and get some sleep.

He got to the boardwalk and started toward th e door of the restaurant, when it opened suddenly an d Burt Parry stepped out. When he saw Shevli n his face seemed to stiffen.

"You! Shevlin!" His voice was brusque, an d even as he spoke he was putting his hand in his ves t pocket.

He held out several coins to Shevlin. "You r wages. I'm going to quit the claim."

Before Mike could speak he turned his back o n him and strode away, walking swiftly.

Puzzled, Shevlin opened the restauran t door and stepped inside. Tom Haye s was there, a man whom he knew by sight, and at a table in the far corner sat Clagg Merriam.

Merriam glanced up, but looked away quickly.

Mike Shevlin ordered his meal, an d gratefully drank his coffee. It was hot , black, and strong. Suddenly the door opened an d Ben Stowe came in. He shot a glance a t Merriam, then went over to where Tom Haye s sat.

"I didn't know you and Doc Clagg were suc h friends, Tom," Stowe said quietly. "Heard yo u were seeing him today. Or are you sick?"

"Poorly." Hayes's face was haggard.

"I been feelin' poorly."

"Too bad. I figured it was something like that.

Well, what else can you expect? A docto r is usually dealing with people who live unhealth y lives." Stowe slapped Hayes heavily on th e back. "Don't worry about it, Ben. What'
s a little stomach-ache when so many people are dying?"

Ben Stowe's eyes shifted to Mike Shevlin , and he crossed over to his table. "Mind if I s it down, Mike?" he said genially.

Hayes got up and left the restauran t hurriedly, and Stowe looked after him, contempt i n his eyes.

When he was seated, Stowe took out tw o cigars, held out one to Shevlin and lighted the othe r for himself.

"Mike," he said, "I've been giving it som e thought. We were pretty close in the old days, yo u and me, and with Gib gone I'm going to need a man." His voice lowered. "I'm going to need a man who has guts and a gun. But one who won'
t stampede."

"You're talking," Shevlin said. He was s o tired that he felt he could hardly keep his eye s open.

"I figure a man can always use some money , and you were one who could take it when the chance offered.

What would you say to stepping into Gib's shoes a t the express company?"

Their voices were so low that it would not have bee n possible for anyone else to hear them. The offe r seemed to be dropped casually by Stowe, but h e added, almost as an afterthought, "There would be a tid y bit coming after this is all over. Gib worked for it , but now he won't be with us, so why shouldn't you pic k up where he left off?"

"I wouldn't want to end up lik e Gentry did, Ben."

Stowe brushed off the suggestion with a wave of th e cigar-holding hand. "You can take care of yourself.

Anyway, I need you. I needed Gib, for tha t matter. His getting shot was all a mistake."

Shevlin looked up at Stowe. "You'r e damn' right it was, and I know just what kind of a mistake."

Ben Stowe chuckled. "Figured you did. Bu t look, Mike, we're playing for big mone y here. You can't blame a man for covering all th e angles. Now with Gib gone, things are different.

I need you. Gib's end could have come to that freigh t line, plus half a million dollars ...
h alf a million dollars, Mike! Ho w long is it going to take you to make that much money?"

Mike Shevlin was thoroughly awake now. "Jus t what has to be done to make that kind of money?"
h e asked.

Stowe held his cigar in his hand. "Mike , I'm going to level with you. After all, you've bee n up the creek and over the mountain, and you can rea d sign as well as the next man. I nee d somebody to handle some freight shipments, somebod y tough enough to take those shipments through--regardless o f what happens."

"You think I can do it?"

"Like nobody else. Better than Gib , even."

"Do you think somebody will try to stop a shipment?"

Stowe leaned his big forearms on the table.

"You're damn' tootin', I do. Where do you thin k Ray Hollister is right now?"

Weariness was creeping over him, but he forced hi s mind to consider Stowe's offer, an offer s o astonishing he could scarcely believe it. Th e gold was to be placed right in his hands. He wouldn'
t have to look for it; he would have it in his charge--but unde r the suspicious guns of Ben's gunmen.

Half a million dollars ... that would b e better than ten per cent of half a million.