The Road to Ratchet Creek (15 page)

On arrival at the sheriff's office, Calamity took a seat at the desk and told her story to Jergens. No expression came to his face, but he nodded soberly at the finish.

“Boy knows guns, I'll give you that. But he could be wrong.”

“That's what I thought,” Calamity admitted. “At first.”

“And now?” asked Cole.

Taking out her money, Calamity extracted the ten dollar bill which had attracted her attention at the saloon. Accepting the ten-spot, Cole turned it between his fingers. He studied the paper, coloration and gazed long at the rusty-brown stain on one side.

“It's the real McCoy, Calam.”

“Sure. And that blood stain on it's from Johnny Browning's nose back in Promontory.”

“Where'd you get it?” demanded the sheriff.

“From Ray Burkee,” Calamity replied.

“Ray Burkee?” growled the sheriff.

“And he got it off that gal at the bank, from money Hewes gave her out of the drawer in his desk.”

Silence fell on the office while the two men digested the news. At last Cole broke their thought trains. “How about it, Ham?”

“It takes some believing,” Jergens breathed. “Anyways, that jasper who pulled the hold-ups looked nothing like Hewes.”

“I've seen the Rebel Spy make herself look older, heavier, taller even,” Cole pointed out. “Used a gray wig, theatrical face fixings, padding under clothes that were too big for her, thick heels on her boots.”

“That feller did step a mite short for his size,” Calamity went on. “And his hands were smaller than you'd figure from his heft. I'm not just saying that to make you reckon I'm right, Ham.”

“I never figured you were, gal,” the sheriff assured her. “This's a shaker for sure though.”

“How well do you know Hewes, Ham?” Cole asked.

“He's been hereabouts for the past year or so.
Took over the bank when his missus' uncle, him being the banker then, died. Him and his wife get on well enough with folks, but they don't mix much excepting for business.”

“The bank's sound, though?”

“Allus seemed to be.”

“You've had a slew of hold-ups hereabouts, from what I hear, Ham.”

“Some, Solly, some. Nothing big though.”

“Tell us about them,” the marshal requested.

“There ain't much to tell. First time was a rancher who drew some money out of the bank to pay for a bunch of hosses. He'd been sparking Monique, that lil——.”

“We know her,” Cole interrupted.

“Sure, she was on the stage with you,” agreed the sheriff. “Well sir, this rancher took Monique out to his place to see the new hosses. Got held up two mile out of town.”

“How many men?” asked Calamity.

“One, with a scatter,” Jergens answered. “Rancher'd've likely made a fight but Monique got scared and flung her arms 'round his neck. Feller can't do much fancy lead-throwing with a gal hanging on to him. So he sat fast and lost his poke.”

“That was the first one,” Cole said, glancing at Calamity.

“Next was a prospector come in and changed
some gold for cash money. He wanted to buy a place out of town that the bank held a note on. So Millie Hackerstow, her that works at the bank, took him out to see it. Same feller jumped them, cleaned the miner out.”

“Most miners'd've done some objecting to that,” Calamity remarked.

“So'd this un,” Jergens replied. “Only the Hackerstow gal swooned at the sight of the scatter, fell into his arms. Afore he could loose her, the owlhoot whomped him on the head with the scatter and when he come to the money'd gone.” He paused, took out a box of cigars from his desk and offered it to Cole.

“Mind if we smoke, Calam?” asked the marshal.

“I was just going to ask you the same,” she answered and the sheriff took the hint. With her cigar going, a sight that brought grins to the men's faces, she went on, “You never found the feller doing the robbing?”

“Nary a sign, gal,” Jergens admitted. “And the next time he hit, we looked extra hard.”

“Why then?” Cole inquired.

“That time the feller was alone and got his brains blowed out with a rifle to one side of him. A week later Millie Hackerstow took a cattle-buyer out to the Box K and he was robbed. Couldn't chance making a fight with the gal along, as there was this rifle lined on him from some bushes and the scatter.”

“Has there been a gal along for each robbery?”

“All bar the third, Calam,” the sheriff replied.

“Monique and that gal teller each time?”

“Nope. One time it was a couple of gals from the Bull Elk. Next time it was Sally-Mae Bloom from the general store——Only she's Millie Hackerstow's cousin.”

“And Monique'd know those gals from the saloon,” Cole commented.

“It was her who introduced them to the two jaspers who were robbed,” Jergens admitted. “But Sally-Mae Bloom's as honest as the days're long. So's Millie for that matter. And I've never had a complaint against Monique or any of the Bull Elk gals.”

“That Monique's a mighty strange lil gal though,” Calamity remarked. “She didn't throw a swoon when them Arapahoes jumped us, nor when ole Pizen Joe collapsed. But she does when that feller points a gun her way—and just at the right time to trip me up.”

“And she knew where you hid that money, Calam,” Cole went on. “I asked Johnny when he told me about the hold-up and he allows he told her——.”

“The young foo——!” Calamity began.

“He did it to show how smart you were, because he likes and admires you,” Cole told her. “And where in hell're you going?”

The latter came as Calamity started to rise,
sending her chair skidding back with an angry thrust of her knees.

“To the Bull Elk,” she spat out. “When I've done with her, that damned Monique's going to wish she'd never been born.”

B
EFORE
C
ALAMITY COULD TAKE THREE STEPS,
C
OLE
leapt after her. Catching her by the shoulder, he swung her around and back on to the chair.

“It's not Christmas, sister, but let's have peace and good will toward all women,” he said. “Or at least let's try thinking afore you start hair-yanking.”

“How'd you mean?” Calamity answered.

“You go down there and jump her, you'll get stopped afore you can do any good,” Cole explained. “All that you'll manage is to warn Hewes we're on to him and proving against him'll be hard enough without that.”

“You never spoke a truer word, Solly,” Jergens went on. “There's something neither of yo's spoke
about yet, too. Why'd they try to kill you tonight, Calam?”

“Because they reckon I recognized him at the hold-up,” she guessed.

“I don't reckon so,” Cole answered. “Young John saw just as much as you did. Nope, there has to be some other reason for going after you.”

“Could that jasper we had to shoot be the second man?” asked Calamity, a fresh aspect coming to her.

“He could be. Nobody's seen more than the second feller's rifle so far. Only the one with the scatter ever showed his-self,” the sheriff answered.

“Why'n't I go talk to Monique?” suggested Calamity hopefully.

“Because you'd get no place doing it,” Cole replied. “All you'll do is scare him off.”

“That's what Hewes said to me about the feller who's been peddling the fake stock for the Golden Eagle Mine,” Calamity said and told of the incident at the banker's office.

“He could be telling the truth,” Cole pointed out. “Anyways, I'll see what he tells me about it.”

“What brought you out this ways, Solly?” asked the sheriff. “Did you figure on the stage being robbed and get side-tracked by them whiskey pedlars?”

“Nope. I didn't even know the money was aboard. Nobody knew anything about it until the
last minute——Except the Wells Fargo supervisor at Promontory and whoever asked for it to be shipped out here.”

“Which'd be the banker,” Calamity guessed. “He wasn't at the office when we pulled in last night.”

“Ray found him in bed,” Jergens told them. “I didn't think much about it at first. But it did look a touch strange, him not being on hand to make sure his money come in safe.”

“I'd've expected him to be there,” Cole agreed. “Say, Ham, I'll need some help tomorrow night.”

“You've got it,” promised Jergens, after hearing of Sedgewell's rendezvous. “Did that feller at the trading post say whether the message'd been passed on?”

“Nope. Only that some jasper'd brought it. I reckon Cultus cut down the feller who should've gone for it.”

“Then if Sedgewell didn't get word, he may not be here.”

“Likely, but we'll keep a watch out——.”

“Tomorrow's Saturday,” Jergens interrupted. “There's allus a fair slew of strangers around town then. We'll just have to hope we're lucky. Say, is that why you've come?”

“Nope,” Cole replied. “I'm here to help guard a shipment of fifty thousand dollars in gold going East from a mine.”

“So that's it!” Calamity gasped and even the unemotional sheriff's face showed that the news surprised him.

“That's it,” Cole agreed. “It's coming here by a special stage, then going on to Promontory. Gets in Wednesday and leaves at sun up Thursday. And it's been arranged that the gold'll be put in the bank's vault for the night as being safer than leaving it at the Wells Fargo office.”

“Fifty thousand dollars!” Calamity said. “That's a whole heap of money.”

“More than that masked jasper ever stole in one go or all together,” the sheriff went on.

“But not more than Sedgewell's taken before now,” Cole replied. “A shipment like this's his meat.”

“We're going to have to play this careful,” Jergens stated. “Anything I can do for you, Solly, just say the word.”

“That's all fine and dandy,” Calamity snapped. “But I'm more concerned with getting back Johnny's and my money.”

“So am I,” Cole told her. “And, unless some damned fool gal with red hair spoils everything by going off half-cocked I may be able to do it.”

“Now I wonder who you can mean,” Calamity grinned. “I'll do whatever you say, deacon.”

“I'm counting on it,” Cole told her. “And this's what I want you to do.”

Listening to Cole's plan, Calamity decided that
it might work. Certainly she felt she could do her part of it.

So next morning she presented herself at the bank shortly after it opened and requested an interview with Hewes. Millie Hackerstow's disapproval was more marked, for Calamity carried her jacket and wore a shirt even tighter-fitting than that of the previous day. Unless Calamity missed her guess, more than a “good” woman's disapproval lay behind Millie's hostile glare as the teller told her to go in to the private office. Nor did Millie offer to close the door as Calamity walked toward Hewes' desk.

“That'll be all, Miss Hackerstow,” Hewes said, but his eyes were fixed as if they were magnetized on the front of Calamity's shirt.

Giving an indignant snort, Millie backed out of the room and closed the door with a bang. Calamity grinned and sat on the edge of the desk instead of taking the offered chair.

“I came to see you about that business of young Johnny Browning,” she said, eyeing the banker with what she hoped to be frank admiration.

“I haven't had time to think it over, Miss——.”

“Why don't you call me ‘Calam'?” she purred, leaning toward him. “And there's no real rush. I only came in to see you again.”

While talking, Calamity wondered if she might be rushing things a mite. Then she caught a glimpse of a self-satisfied smirk flicker across
Hewes' face and guessed that she was not the first girl to make such a statement to him. From the banker's attitude, he had become accustomed to young women throwing themselves at him and treated her own actions as a matter of course.

“I'm pleased you did,” he said. “Who was the man who saved you last night?”

“Solly Cole.”

“The U.S. marshal?” Hewes gulped, then his self-assured pose came back fast. “That was fortunate for you.”

“He near on lost a deputy,” Calamity said. “Not a regular one, but he's took me on to help guard——.”

“Yes?” prompted Hewes as Calamity stopped with the air of one who feels she had said more than she should.

“Shucks, you know about the gold shipment, so there's no harm in me telling you. Solly figures I can watch better'n a man as nobody'll figure on me being a deputy.”

“You are in his confidence then?”

“We're real close—Not in any wrong way. He don't go in for that kind of thing,” Calamity said, fighting to hold down a grin at the last sentence. “Say, is there any place around that I can get me a swim, private like?”

“I always ride about a mile up the stream outside town,” Hewes told her. “There's a good hole up that ways.”

“Reckon I can find it without getting lost?” Calamity inquired, leaning closer to him.

“It's easy to find,” Hewes answered, eyes bugging out a mite as he stared down beneath Calamity's chin. “But perh——.”

Hearing the door's handle turn, Calamity swung off the desk and Hewes adopted an attitude of business-like politeness. As Calamity turned, a woman entered the room. Standing the same height as Calamity, the newcomer looked several years older than Hewes. Which did not prevent her from being a tolerable fine piece of female. Raven black hair framed a good-looking face with lines of strength on it. The black suit she wore cost plenty and it fitted a figure which Calamity had to admit looked mighty eye-catching. Built on the lines most admired at that time, with a big bust, slender waist and firm, wide hips, the woman could have been an actress; yet she wore none of the make-up associated with the stage.

“Evalyn, my dear,” Hewes greeted. “This is Miss Canary.”

“Howdy, Mrs. Hewes,” Calamity said.

“Miss Canary,” the woman replied distantly. “Dixon, I want to speak to you.”

Studying the banker's wife, Calamity could not think why he married her. Then she decided that if Mrs. Hewes had wanted to marry him, he would not have dared refuse. There stood a
woman who could run her man, or Calamity had never seen one.

“I was just going,” Calamity said. “Sure hope you can do something for young Johnny.”

“I'll think about it,” Hewes told her. “Possibly I may have something to tell you this afternoon.”

“Let's hope you don't decide to wash me away,” Calamity replied and winked.

Watched by the frowning female teller, Calamity left the bank. On her return to the Tappet house, she told Marshal Cole of the interview and announced her intention of going to the swimming hole in the afternoon. Cole pointed out that to do so could put her into danger. If the banker had tried to kill her the previous night, she offered him a mighty good chance to improve on his abortive attempt.

Before any more could be said, the sheriff arrived with an important discovery. Making tactful inquiries, he had discovered that Hewes had been with the town preacher and an official of the local Mormon temple at the time of the shooting. That put the banker in the clear. Strangely Cole and Calamity failed to ask one question which might have shed some light on the matter.

To keep John occupied and out of the way, the sheriff found him a number of gun repairs. So he did not see Calamity leave town that afternoon. Following the stream, she found the pool Hewes recommended and waited. Although she had
brought along her carbine, Colt and whip, there seemed no need for the precautions. At last she decided that the banker did not intend to come. The water looked inviting, so Calamity peeled off her shirt and undershirt with the intention of taking a swim. Hearing a slight sound, she bent and scooped up her carbine.

“It's only me, Calam,” came Hewes' voice and he stepped into view.

Slowly Calamity replaced the carbine and took up her undershirt. “You handed me a shock there,” she remarked.

Walking up, feasting his eyes on her naked torso, Hewes pulled the garment from her hands and said, “I thought you'd come for a swim.”

The sun had set when Calamity rejoined Cole at the Tappet house.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“Now I'd say that wasn't a gentlemanly question,” Calamity grinned. “Tell you one thing, though. He's real interested in what you're aiming to do about guarding that gold shipment. And in you.”

“That last shows he's got good taste,” the marshal said.

“You're telling
me
about his taste?” Calamity replied. “After I've fed, I'll go to the Bull Elk and see Monique.”

“You mind what I told you,” growled Cole. “Keep your cotton-picking hands offen her hair.”

“Why sure, deacon,” grinned Calamity. “I don't feel half so riled at her now.”

Monique greeted Calamity warmly enough and asked questions about the shooting as they sat at a table in the saloon. Following the prearranged scheme, Calamity dismissed the affair as an attempt to kill Marshal Cole into which she had wandered by accident.

“Say, I fixed up a loan at the bank for young Johnny,” she went on. “Dixon—Banker Hewes's been real helpful.”

“You've seen him?” asked Monique, her smile vanishing.

“Sure. We had a real interesting talk this afternoon.”

“This afternoon——So that's why——.”

“Why what?”

“Nothing!” Monique snorted and pushed back her chair. “I must go and sing.”

“That's put a burr in your fancy lil breeches, gal,” Calamity thought as the singer stamped away. “Now I'm getting the hell out of here.”

All through her act Monique debated to herself how she should handle the situation. Her idea of getting two of the girls to pick a fight with Calamity came to nothing. Guessing how Monique would react, Cole had insisted that Calamity should avoid trouble and leave the Bull Elk before the singer could make any arrangements.

Next day they went on as planned. It being Sun
day, Mrs. Tappet invited the Heweses over to supper and suggested that Millie Hackerstow came along. Continuing with her part, Calamity made sure the girl teller knew, or imagined she knew, how things stood with the banker. By the time the guests left, Calamity felt certain that Hewes was carrying on affairs with both Monique and Millie and had used them as aids in the holdups. She also figured that both the girls would take exception to him showing favor to her.

Monday saw Hewes taking Calamity to lunch at the eating house, ostensibly to discuss John's loan, with Millie scowling after them and Monique glaring down from the saloon's balcony. Yet neither girl made any move or complaint that Calamity could see. In fact when she went to the saloon that night, she found Monique to be as friendly as she had been before Calamity had mentioned meeting the banker. The little singer's attitude struck Calamity as just a touch pitying, as if Monique possessed some knowledge she did not and felt superior for it.

“Maybe Hewes's told her he's just using you for what he can learn,” Cole suggested when Calamity mentioned the incident to him.

“Could be,” Calamity agreed. “What're we going to do now?”

“Nothing tonight. Comes morning we've a meeting with him, Ray Burkee and Ham Jergens to fix up how to protect the gold shipment.” He
paused and looked at Calamity. “You're still set on going through with your end of it, Calam?”

“Dead set!” she replied. “I've never been robbed afore and it rankles me to know that scent-sniffing dude done it.”

“I wish there was some way I could help you.”