Devil's Canyon Read online

  “Is he all right?” Withers asked anxiously.

  “Not where I come from,” said Kritzer. “He’s dead. You busted his neck, Slade.”

  “I had enough of his mouthin’ off,” Slade growled.

  “It was just his way,” said Withers. “I’m wonderin’ how long before you come down on Kritzer and me.”

  “Long as you and Kritzer don’t push me,” Slade said, “we’ll get along.”

  “I didn’t think Hindes was pushin’ you,” said Withers. “There’s a mean streak in you, Slade, that I ain’t never liked, and the more I see of you, the less I like it. I’m pullin’ out, goin’ back to Santa Fe.”

  Slade laughed. “Withers, you’re a damn fool.”

  “I have been,” Withers said, “but no more.”

  Withers got to his feet, and to Slade’s surprise, so did Kritzer.

  “If Withers is a damn fool,” said Kritzer, “then so am I. I’m leavin’ with him.”

  Slade stood up, and unbelieving, watched them vanish into the darkness.

  “You’ll never make it,” Slade shouted. “You hear me, you’ll never make it.”

  But there was only silence, and for a long moment, Slade stood looking down at the body of the dead Hindes. Finally he began walking, and the fingers of a west wind were cool as they touched his sweating face….

  * * *

  When Faro and Tarno reached the shallow end of the canyon, it wasn’t difficult to see what had happened following the blast. Tracks of three shod horses and those of fifteen unshod animals led westward. Many more tracks of unshod horses led due south.

  “Not many Utes went with the white renegades,” Tarno said. “Less than twenty. I’d say the rest have split the blanket.”

  “That’s good news for us,” said Faro, “but it looks like they may have taken any extra horses with them. I don’t think we’ll pursue that bunch that rode south.”

  “I won’t argue with you on that,” Tarno said. “After last night, they’d gut-shoot a white man, just on general principles.”

  “We’ll ride on back to the wagons,” said Faro. “Lacking horses, Collins’s amigos will be ridin’ a wagon box.”

  “None of us will be goin’ anywhere for another three or four days,” Tarno said. “That is, if you aim to allow Puckett and Collins some time to heal.”

  “No reason why we shouldn’t,” said Faro. “Most of the urgency in us getting these wagons to the claim was the three miners Collins had left behind, and their need for food and ammunition. We’ve taken care of that part of the problem, and in so doing, we have three more men to stand with us against the Utes and outlaws.”

  When they reached the wagons, their breakfast and hot coffee was waiting. After they had eaten, Faro and Tarno reported what they had seen at the canyon and their speculation as to what had become of the renegades and Utes.

  “We’re not rid of the varmints, then,” Dallas said.

  “No,” said Tarno. “While most of the Utes seem to have left the white renegades, we still may have to fight them. The same holds true of the renegades. While they’re reduced in number, I don’t look for them to leave us alone. I think scouting ahead is going to be even more important from here on. We’ll remain here until Puckett and Collins are well enough to travel. How are they, this morning?”

  “Puckett’s doin’ well, considerin’,” Dallas said, “but Collins has a raging fever. We’ve been dosin’ him with whiskey. Blackburn and Snyder’s been takin’ care of them.”

  “I reckon there’s been no other trouble, if you know what I mean,” said Faro.

  “I know what you mean,” Dallas said, “and no, there’s been no more trouble out of them. Two wounded men seems to have had a sobering effect.”

  “God knows, we needed one,” said Faro.

  The day passed uneventfully, but along toward sundown, Tarno spotted a pair of distant figures stumbling in from the west.

  “Who in tarnation are they?” Shanghai Taylor wondered.

  “There were five other white men held captive in that canyon besides us,” Blackburn said. “That could be two of them.”

  The two came on, and when they neared the wagons, Faro challenged them.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

  “Kritzer and Withers,” said one. The other seemed too weary to respond. “We’ve been held prisoner by renegades and Indians. Last night, we managed to escape.”

  “Come on,” Faro said. “We’ll have supper in a while.”

  “We’re obliged,” said Kritzer. “We ain’t had a scrap of grub since yesterday mornin’, and not much, then.”

  Hal Durham had come forth to witness the arrival of the two, and he quickly turned away, but not before Faro had seen recognition in his eyes. Durham didn’t appear during supper, and when the meal was finished, Faro questioned the new arrivals.

  “Usually, I don’t ask a man his business, but you gents are without horses, guns, or grub, and these mountains are full of Utes. Where are you bound?”

  “Santa Fe, I reckon,” said Withers.

  “Yeah,” Kritzer agreed. “Where else could we go?”

  “It’s a good two hundred miles,” said Faro. “I reckon I don’t have to tell you how slim your chances are.”

  The two said nothing, their eyes on the tin cups of coffee in their hands.

  “I’m not one to leave a man without a gun, horse, and grub,” Faro continued, “but we already have three men without horses or guns. Grub won’t save you from the Utes.”

  “We ain’t expectin’ nothin’,” said Withers. “We was half starved, you fed us, and we’re obliged for that.”

  “We have two wounded men,” Faro said, “and we’ll be here two or three more days. You’re welcome to at least stay and eat.”

  “We’re obliged,” said Kritzer.

  Not until the newcomers had fallen into an exhausted sleep did Tarno and his outfit have a chance to talk.

  “I’m almost certain they’re two of the five men held captive by the renegades,” Blackburn said.

  “I think so, too,” said Snyder, “but what became of the others?”

  “At least one died tryin’ to escape the canyon,” Tarno said. “Some of the others may have been hit. Or maybe this pair only wants to get back to Santa Fe.”

  “I don’t doubt they were held captive,” said Faro, “but they’re not telling it all. They were part of a five-man outfit stalking us, until they had the misfortune to be captured by the renegades and Utes.”

  “We can’t trust ’em,” Dallas said. “When does a man stop bein’ an outlaw?”

  “I don’t know,” said Faro, “but for reasons of my own, I’d like to keep them around for a while.”

  “So would I,” Tarno said. “Durham shied away from ’em mighty quick.”

  “Where is he and the McCutcheons?” Faro asked. “I haven’t seen any of them since before supper.”

  “They’ve been mighty quiet,” said Dallas. “I’ve been countin’ my blessin’s.”

  “This is still Levi Collins’s responsibility,” Faro said, “and I’ll want to talk to him about this Withers and Kritzer. Maybe we’ll just take them with us, if only to see how Durham handles it.”

  “My God,” said Shanghai, “that’s like havin’ the foxes watchin’ the henhouse.”

  “Not quite,” Faro said. “If Withers and Kritzer are who we think they are—and they can hardly be anyone else—then they already know where we’re bound, and why. There is a small chance they’re leveling with us, and I’ve always been one to give a man benefit of the doubt. At least, until he convinces me I’m a sucker.”

  “You told this pair we’re short on guns,” Shanghai said. “Collins bought a dozen new Winchesters, and enough shells to stand off every Ute in these mountains.”

  “You know that, and I know that,” said Faro. “Let’s leave it that way, until we have a better understanding of this situation.”

  That ended their discussion,
for much depended on what Levi Collins had to say.

  * * *

  A pair of Utes caught Slade well before he reached the renegade camp, and with a Winchester at his back, marched him before Dog Face.

  “Well, damn,” Dog Face said, “if it ain’t Slade. I reckoned we’d seen the last of you. Where’s the rest of your boys?”

  “Run out on me,” said Slade, “and I’m near starved. I could use some grub.”

  “Well, now,” Dog Face said, “you done some runnin’ of your own. Why should I feed you, when we ain’t all that well off, grub-wise?”

  “Because I aim to be part of your outfit,” said Slade desperately. “None of us has got a handle on that gold claim anymore, unless we follow the wagons. They know about you, and they’re armed to the teeth. You’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Dog Face said. “Sangre, Hueso, what do you think?”

  “I think you oughta gut-shoot the bastard right now,” said Hueso.

  “Damn right,” Sangre agreed. “You can’t trust him.”

  Dog Face laughed. “Hell, I can’t trust nobody, includin’ you two. They don’t like you, Slade, and that’s a feather in your hat. Before, you had your own outfit, but now there’s only you. By God, I’ll take a chance on you, but you don’t answer to nobody but me. You got that?”

  “I got it,” said Slade.

  “There’s stew on the fire,” Dog Face said. “Help yourself.”

  Grateful, Slade turned away, but the hate in the eyes of Sangre and Hueso sent chills up his spine, and he longed for a gun….

  Chapter 10

  Southwestern Colorado. August 28, 1870.

  By dawn, Levi Collins was awake, his fever having broken during the night.

  “We need to talk,” Faro said, “if you’re feelin’ up to it.”

  “I think, after I’ve had some cold water, hot coffee, and some food, I’ll be ready for anything,” said Collins.

  “Mostly,” Faro said, “there is something you need to know about. I’ll talk while you eat, and then you can tell me what you think.”

  “Anything that has to do with this expedition, I’ll trust your judgment,” said Collins.

  “I’m obliged for your confidence,” Faro said, “but this is a strange situation that came up late yesterday. Frankly, I’ve decided how I believe we should handle it, but you deserve to know my reasoning.”

  While Collins ate, Faro talked. When Collins finished the last of his coffee, he spoke.

  “So you believe Hal Durham, the gambler, knows these men who showed up late yesterday. That would put Durham squarely in cahoots with those outlaws who were following us.”

  “It would,” said Faro.

  “Then there’s the McCutcheons,” Collins said. “Are they also involved with these outlaws, or is their relationship with Durham strictly personal?”

  “They have nothing to do with the outlaws,” said Faro. “I think they’re victims of an uncommonly rotten judgment, and their involvement with Durham began in Amarillo, like they say. Troublesome as they are, they’ve kept Durham from accomplishing what he must have been sent here to do.”

  “You think it was Durham who slugged me and took the ore, then,” Collins said.

  “Yes,” said Faro. “Nothing else makes sense. I was sure of it yesterday, when Kritzer and Withers showed up. Durham has a pretty solid poker face, but it slipped for just a second. He knows these hombres, and they know him.”

  “Go ahead and deal with this situation as you see fit,” Collins said. “In fact, if you’re reasonably certain Kritzer and Withers are no longer seeking to take the claim from us, I’d be willing to hire them for the duration of this journey. We can always use a couple more guns, when the Utes come after us.”

  “That would certainly be a means of keeping them around, and in contact with Hal Durham,” said Faro. “If we’re right about Durham, he’ll make some move toward Withers and Kritzer, and if they respond with any interest, we’ll know where they stand.”

  “Tell Kritzer and Withers I’m offering them each two hundred dollars to deliver these wagon loads of goods,” Collins said. “I will provide them with food, weapons, and shells. I shall expect them to assist in any way they can, especially in our defense against the Utes. We have no horses for them, of course.”

  “That’s a more than generous offer,” said Faro. “They’d be fools not to accept.”

  Faro presented the offer Collins had made, and the two readily accepted.

  “We’re obliged,” Kritzer said.

  “My God, yes,” said Withers. “I’d side you just for grub, a gun, and ammunition.”

  When Durham made an appearance, he pointedly ignored the two men, further adding to Faro’s suspicion that he knew them.

  “He knows them, all right,” Dallas Weaver said, when he had a chance to talk to Faro in private. “You didn’t ask them why they was bein’ held captive by the renegades?”

  “No,” said Faro. “It’s possible they’re playin’ straight with us, and I want to use them to unmask Durham. If he’s the Judas I think he is, then I want him where I can get my hands on him. He’ll know, by Kritzer and Withers showin’ up here, that the outlaw bid for the claim didn’t pan out. He looks like the kind who will attempt to enlist the help of Kritzer and Withers, with the intention of takin’ the claim for himself.”

  “You don’t think Kritzer and Withers will throw in with him, then,” Dallas said.

  “No,” said Faro, “but Collins is goin’ along with my hunch, and I want him to see the proof, if I’m right.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Dallas said. “That’ll be two more guns against the Utes. Ten of us, not includin’ Durham and the McCutcheons.”

  As he could, Faro spoke privately to Shanghai Taylor, Tarno Spangler, Isaac Puckett, Felix Blackburn, and Josh Snyder about his intentions of taking in Kritzer and Withers. He said nothing, however, to the McCutcheons and Durham.

  “We have extra Winchesters,” he told the wounded Puckett. “When you’re able, you’ll be given one, and the ammunition.”

  Faro then made his way back to Kritzer and Withers.

  “I was wrong about one thing,” Faro said. “In talking to Levi Collins, I’m told he has several extra Winchesters in one of the wagons. Each of you will be allowed use of one, with ammunition supplied.”

  “Thank God,” said Kritzer. “All I want is a chance to get out of Ute country alive.”

  “I want somethin’ more than that,” Withers said “Before I go, I’d like to get them three white renegades in my sights.”

  Faro said no more. Durham was watching, and if Faro’s suspicions held up, then the next move would belong to the gambler.

  * * *

  “Slade,” Dog Face said, “I got an assignment for you. I want you to ride back and have a look at them wagons. I wanta know what that bunch is doin’. We can’t afford for ’em to catch us nappin’ again.”

  “I’ll need a horse and a gun,” said Slade.

  “You’ll have both,” Dog Face said. “In fact, I’ll do better than that. I got a spyglass you can use, an’ bring ever’thing up close. Just don’t use it when you’re facin’ the sun.”

  Slade rode out an hour after first light. Sangre, Hueso, and Dog Face watched him go. Dog Face laughed, aware of the hatred that bubbled within his companions.

  “You’ll be sorry,” Hueso predicted.

  “Yeah,” said Sangre. “Either of us could of went.”

  “Don’t be a pair of damn fools,” Dog Face said. “I’m testin’ him. If a man’s bound to let me down, then I’ll let him do it in a small way. In some way that don’t get me kilt.”

  Slade rode eastward, elated that he was being allowed to prove himself. While he did not for a minute believe he would share in the gold claim, there was virtually nothing he could do on his own. He would ingratiate himself to the renegade leader and bide his time. There would be time enough to contemplate a doubl
e-cross, if and when they actually got their hands on the elusive gold claim.

  When Slade reached the canyon where the explosions had taken place, he rode north. Even in daylight, the teamsters would be ready for trouble, and he dared not approach them from the west. He finally had to settle for a tree-clothed ridge three-quarters of a mile away, and was thankful for the spyglass Dog Face had provided. He was careful to remain within the shade of a tree, so that the sun didn’t reflect off the glass.

  “Well, by God,” he grunted to himself. “There’s Withers and Kritzer, and they got themselves Winchesters. Maybe old Slade’s chances is better than they seemed.”

  He spent half an hour with the glass, and to his dismay, he found Durham was still part of the outfit. While he didn’t know how Durham had survived, or how Kritzer and Withers had worked their way in, his devious mind devoured the information and spat out the obvious conclusion. Obvious to him, anyway. The three of them would eventually team up, making their own bid for the gold claim.

  “Damn them,” he said grimly, “they’ll root old Slade out, will they?”

  Slade had seen enough. He mounted up and rode back to the renegade camp. When he dismounted, there were frowns on the faces of Sangre and Hueso. Dog Face laughed. The remaining Utes watched Slade curiously.

  “Well?” said Dog Face impatiently.

  “They ain’t moved from where they was,” Slade said. “Don’t look like they plan to anytime soon.”

  “How many men they got?”

  “I’d say ten, includin’ the three they took off your hands,” said Slade. “They got men on watch with Winchesters, in the daytime.”

  Slade carefully avoided mentioning that two of the men were Withers and Kritzer, and he didn’t mention Durham at all. Sangre and Hueso had listened in silence. Hueso spoke.

  “I can’t see that we’ve learned a hell of a lot we didn’t already know. We knew this outfit has at least a pair of wounded hombres, so they ain’t goin’ anywhere for a while. We knew they hauled three hombres out of the canyon, so that’s three more than they had, and it don’t take a heap of brains to see the need for keepin’ watch in the daytime, when you’re in Ute country.”

  “Well, you just go on figgerin’ all this out in your head,” said Dog Face. “Me, I just wanted a firsthand look, and Slade took care of that. More important, he done what I asked him, without mouthin’ off. Maybe the pair of you can learn from him.”