Derailed, p.5
Derailed, page 5
FIVE
Ned Chambers kept an eye on the door and on Frazier as Tango stripped down the buckskin horse, not having immediate use for it, and not wanting the animal to suffer.
‘Place looks pretty deserted,’ Ned commented.
‘It is. Most of the outlaws have been posted out to watch for trouble arriving. Ned … why did you leave those two out there? With only Wilson to watch out for Marina?’
‘I figure that it’s the other way around,’ Ned answered smiling thinly. ‘She’ll be looking out for him. I started thinking and decided that the only way out of here is on that train if we can get it rolling. There’s no other way. I figured that whatever you were up to, you’d need some help. And I was no help to anyone sitting up on the bluff. But I didn’t like the idea, you can be sure of that. What’s been happening down here?’
‘Mickey Dent did manage to make it here, looking for help,’ Tango told him. ‘A crew went back to the way station to look into it. What if they track our horses back to where Wilson and Marina are waiting?’
‘I don’t think they will, do you?’
‘No, I think the bandits will want to get back to Northrop as quickly as possible, not wanting to miss out on the pay-off. Besides, Dent is looked upon as somewhat erratic. But, Ned,’ Tango said with concern, ‘you never do know what will happen.’
‘No, you don’t, do you? Marina’s going to fire three shots if she sees anyone coming. You can see for miles down the backtrail from there, you know. Then we’ll have to get back up on the bluffs.’ Ned’s voice fell, ‘Not that I know how much help we would be against a gang of men of any size.’
‘We’ll take the best two horses we see here,’ Tango suggested. ‘Give them their bits and leave them saddled and cinched so we can get out of here quickly if we have to. In the meantime….’
‘Yes?’ Ned asked as Tango slipped out of the buckskin’s stall, leaving the weary animal to munch contentedly at its hay.
‘I think I know where Frank Polk and Danny Short are being held.’
‘You don’t mean it?’
‘Yes, I do. How we’re going to free them, I don’t know, but we will need them, that’s for certain, if we intend to get out of this mess.’
‘We’d better try freeing them then, before any more outlaws can ride in. The ones who rode out with Dent, for example.’
‘That’s what I was thinking. I don’t know how we’re going to break them out, or what we’re going to do with them afterward, but we have to try.’
‘There’s a lot of cunning behind this whole scheme, Tango, isn’t there? Nothing you’d think your run of the mill outlaw would come up with.’
‘Yes, whoever this Russ Blair is, he’s canny all right.’
‘Who?’ Ned stared at Tango as if stunned.
‘Russ Blair.’
‘Where’d you hear that name?’ Ned asked in apparent confusion.
‘A man I met mentioned it. Why?’ Ned looked confused and angry at once.
‘He said that Blair was behind this?’
‘As much as,’ Tango answered. ‘Why? Who is Russ Blair.’
Ned told him woodenly, ‘Russell Blair is one of the railroad board directors in Denver.’
‘I never heard of him.’
‘You wouldn’t in the normal course of events. Sorry, Tango, but he’s a little far up the ladder for you ever to have to run across him. I was only introduced when the board called me in to discuss security for the vice-president’s brother and for Lady Simpson. I hardly remember him, but the name stuck with me.’
‘You’re saying this is an inside job?’ Tango asked.
‘I’m saying it has all the characteristics of one. It had from the start – someone knowing the schedule of the train, knowing where the Northrop spur was.’
‘The man must make a good salary. Why would he risk everything for a little more money?’
‘A lot more money, and Tango, some men never seem to have enough.’ Ned changed subjects. ‘There’s nothing to be done about that now – let’s see what we can accomplish here, now.’
‘You can’t be seen walking around dressed like you are,’ Tango pointed out. ‘I wonder if Frazier’s clothes might fit,’ he said, looking at the stableman who was now beginning to stir.
‘They’d be loose on me,’ Ned said, ‘but that won’t look unusual. When do you see a man in tailored clothes walking around out here? Let’s get him undressed. I suppose we’ll have to tie him and gag him. What with?’
Tango laughed. ‘This is a stable, Ned. If we can’t find enough rope and leather to do the job, we both ought to retire.’
Coming around slowly with what must have been a massive headache, Frazier made no sound, nor did he struggle as he was bound and hidden in the last stall. He might have figured that making any trouble could lead to another thump on the head or even death. It might have been that he was incapable of putting up a fight at that time.
Fifteen minutes later with Ned now dressed in Frazier’s clothes, they walked two well-rested ponies out of the stable and headed for the alley behind the buildings as if they had business, but not especially urgent business there. The only man visible on the main street was the guard with the blanket over his shoulders. He glanced up, but at that distance he could only assume that he was seeing Frazier and the man he had directed over to the stable emerging. He wasn’t concerned, nor especially curious. These were not strangers. He was taking care of his own business. Although the job he had been given left the guard sitting in the cold, it wasn’t a difficult assignment. He pulled his blanket more tightly around his shoulders as the two men passed out of view.
‘There’s a back door,’ Ned said with subdued excitement. ‘If we can get in without making too much noise.…’
‘Then what?’ Tango asked with less enthusiasm. ‘Where are we supposed to hide Polk and Short – assuming we don’t get into shooting trouble?’
‘If we can breach the door, why move them? We’ll leave them where they are until it’s time to call them out to work their magic on the locomotive.’
‘You’ve got a way of making everything sound simple,’ Tango growled. ‘And I’m always stupid enough to believe you until we walk into complications.’
‘What do you want to do?’ Ned Chambers asked, mildly offended. ‘Start shooting and see how many other men are hiding out around town?’
‘That’s one thing I’ve been concerned about,’ Tango said. ‘It stands to reason that there are more than a couple of men guarding the train, it being the purpose behind all of this. There have to be others around – but where?’
‘I know where some good accommodations are,’ Ned said, although Tango was already well ahead of him in his thinking. Beds, food, liquor, warmth. There was one place where the other outlaws could be secure and content. On board the train.
‘And what are we supposed to do about that if it is so?’ Tango asked.
‘I wonder if there’s any chance we could convince them that the ransom’s been paid,’ Ned suggested thoughtfully.
‘No. There hasn’t been enough time for that yet, and no one knows either of us. They won’t fall for such an obvious trick.’
Ned’s sigh was audible. ‘Well,’ he said as they halted behind the back door of the … RY GOODS where they assumed the locomotive engineer and his stoker were being held, ‘one thing at a time.’
Ned tried the door handle and shrugged. Tango noticed that Ned Chambers’s eyes continually drifted to the bluff where he had left Wilson and Marina alone. Tango stepped forward.
‘Let me see, Ned,’ he offered, reaching for the doorknob. Catching Ned’s eyes, still fixed on the snowy bluff, he said, ‘It’ll be all right. She won’t have to worry long.’
Which from the pessimistic Tango was somehow reassuring. Ned watched Tango turn the knob. Nothing happened, of course. The door was bound to be locked. Even so.…
‘A normal man could pop this door with a good yank,’ Tango said in a low voice despite their seeming concealment.
‘And…?’
‘And so it makes me believe that Frank Polk and Danny Short must be bound. What do you think? Want to have a look?’
‘That’s what we’re here for,’ Ned answered uneasily.
They looked up and down the alley, then Tango put his shoulder to the door, strained briefly against it and popped it open with only a small splintering sound and the creak of rusty hinges. They let their eyes search the alleyway again, seeing no movement, hearing no rushing footsteps. Then they stepped into the building, the ancient wooden floor complaining underfoot. The immediate temptation was to give in to the urge to call out, but they dared not. Through one of the tattered blinds they could see the silhouette of the guard in his chair out front. He had not moved, did not stir. Could he possibly be asleep in the cold out on the street? No matter; he was not roused and was apparently unaware of any sound within the old building.
They began searching the place, Tango being careful to point out old refuse, odds and ends left behind by the former tenant. There were coils of baling wire, a pitchfork with a broken handle, three or four small galvanized pails and lots of broken wooden crates, a few bottles. They made their way through the scattered mess as softly as they could.
‘I thought I heard something,’ Ned said, grabbing Tango’s arm. Tango halted and listened too. He nodded toward a small storage room, its door closed. Halting there for a moment, they heard the sound again. It was someone murmuring muffled words. Tango put a hand to his face, indicating ‘gagged’. Then, cautiously they opened the door, each man with a gun in his hand.
Against the far wall on the windowless room they saw the two railroad men sitting on the floor, each with his hands bound behind him, tied at the ankles, gags in their mouths. The engineer, Frank Polk, who had looked up with fear in his eyes, now relaxed, his gaze growing hopeful. The fireman, the young Danny Short only looked befuddled. Tango crossed to Polk and crouched down, touching a finger to his own lips, shaking his head. Polk nodded his understanding. When Tango removed the gag from the railroad man’s mouth Polk began breathing harshly.
‘They had that damned thing tied so tight I thought I was going to suffocate,’ Polk said.
Tango cautioned him again. ‘Don’t speak louder than a whisper.’
‘You’ve come to get us out of here, haven’t you?’
‘That’s right, but not this minute,’ Tango whispered. Ned Chambers had returned to the door to act as a lookout. Polk was building up to an angry response, Tango could tell from the veins standing out in his neck. Tango cautioned Polk again.
‘Frank, we have to leave you here for a little while longer. Letting you free now would start a shooting match, and we have nowhere to take you yet.’ Young Danny Short was struggling with his bonds, wanting to say something as well. Tango ignored him, though he didn’t feel good about it. He asked Frank Polk:
‘When we do get you over to the train, how long do you think it would take you to fire it up and get ready to roll?’
‘A full head of steam?’ Polk frowned.
‘Just enough to get us rolling, back toward the main line.’
‘It would still take at least ten minutes just to get the minimum amount of pressure up,’ Polk told him, ‘and that won’t give us much speed.’
Ten minutes – that didn’t seem like a long time, but if you were in the middle of a gunfight while attempting it, it could seem like forever.
‘We’ll have to take what we can get,’ Tango said. Ned was signaling significantly from the doorway. ‘We’re going to have to leave you here for a while longer. We can’t get caught talking to you. We’ll get you out of here, Frank, don’t worry. For now I’ll have to put that gag back in your mouth so no one gets wise.’
‘Just don’t make it so damned tight!’ Polk said a little too loudly.
‘Tango,’ Ned said. ‘Why not loosen the rope on their wrists? No one will notice that and it will give them an easier time of it when they have to get loose.’
‘All right,’ Tango agreed. He cautioned Polk and Danny, ‘But you two have to promise me you won’t try to escape on your own. It just wouldn’t work.’
Even as he said that Tango was wondering about his own plan, if it could be called that – would it work? Did any of them have a chance? He thought so, as long as they tried it before the rest of the gang started arriving. There were only two armed outlaws out there that they had seen – the old man Tango had first met, and the guard in front of the store. They had no way of knowing if there were others concealed on board the train.
‘I’m sorry,’ Tango said, rising after he had loosened the ties on both men’s wrists. ‘It’s just that you can’t be of much help to us right now, and breaking out might get you shot down before we got started.’ Polk nodded his understanding. The miserable Danny Short glared daggers at Tango, who couldn’t really blame him for feeling the way he obviously did. What kind of rescue was this!
Leaving the room Tango silently closed the door. Ned Chambers paused and whispered to Tango: ‘What now?’
‘Now we start cleaning the place out,’ Tango answered softly.
The first man to take out was the obvious one – the guard sitting on the porch, blanket around his shoulders. He might have been asleep, but whether he was or not was a matter of indifference. He was in the way and had to be removed. Through hand signs and occasional whispered words they devised a simple but workable plan.
The guard knew, or thought he knew, Tango. If he were to see Ned in Frazier’s clothing he would come instantly alert. Therefore it was decided that Tango would approach the guard openly while Ned waited just inside the doorway. Once they had the man inside, they would take him down, tie and gag him and get on to more dangerous work.
It was a simple plan, but Tango knew that even the simplest of plans could blow up in your face. It didn’t matter at this point in time. They had to try something.
The guard out front shivered and again tugged his blanket tighter. From around the corner of the building the blond stranger appeared, leading a horse.
‘Where’s Frazier?’ the guard demanded, coming to his feet.
‘He had some personal business to take care of,’ Tango said casually. He looped the horse’s reins around the hitch rail and propped one boot up on the decayed plank walk. ‘I was wondering … did you hear that?’ he asked, lowering his voice, looking intently toward the building.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know. It sounded kind of like wood splintering.’
‘Damnit!’ the guard said, lurching to his feet. ‘I wonder if they broke free somehow.’ He had his rifle held loosely in both hands as he stared momentarily at the door. Tango offered:
‘Do you want a little help?’
‘I might need it,’ the guard said with a grateful nod. He went to the front door, opened it an inch and tried to peer into the room. Tango gave him a hard shove and the man stumbled forward into Ned Chambers’s grip. Holding the man around the neck with his arm, Ned spun the guard around so that Tango was able to tear the rifle from his hands.
The guard continued to squirm, fighting with Ned, Tango lowered the muzzle of the guard’s own rifle at his belly and said softly but menacingly,
‘You want to give it up or take lead?’ The man stopped wriggling almost immediately, his eyes furious as he glared at Tango.
‘I knew there was something wrong about you,’ he said.
‘Too late now,’ Tango said almost cheerfully. Ned was already binding the man’s hands behind his back. Tango glanced toward the window, then ripped a strip of cloth from the tattered blanket and gagged the guard. ‘Let’s take a walk,’ Tango said, and they led the guard to the back room where he was seated facing Frank Polk and Danny Short. Ned tied the guard’s feet rapidly, tightly, and told Polk and Short:
‘So far, so good. You two just hang on a while longer. We’ll be back.’
They slipped out the storeroom door, leaving the trainmen and the outlaw to glare at each other.
‘Got a plan for the next one?’ Ned panted.
‘I don’t think he’ll give us much trouble,’ Tango answered. ‘Let me go first, then walk up a few minutes after I’ve gone in. I just hope I don’t have to shoot the man.’
‘So do I. We’ve been lucky this far, Tango, but we’re stretching it thin.’
‘We are, aren’t we?’ Tango exited the disused store, gathered the reins to his horse and walked the length of the street to where the old man stood, still peering out the window. Yes, he was waiting for someone, but who, and how soon would they get there? There was no telling and no time for indecision. Tango walked boldly to the sagging building, loosely tethered the horse, and went in. The fire in the iron stove still burned brightly, the old man still appeared worried.
‘Took you long enough just to see to your horse,’ the old man said, his eyes narrowing with apparent suspicion.
‘Oh well; Frazier, he just couldn’t stop yakking,’ Tango answered.
‘Frazier? He don’t usually speak unless spoken to, and sometimes not even then,’ the old man said, growing more wary.
‘We knew each other down the back trail,’ Tango said easily, pouring himself a mug of coffee.
‘Where was that, exactly?’
‘Exactly in someplace we don’t talk about,’ Tango said, adopting his surly snarl again as if he didn’t appreciate anyone asking him about his past.
‘I was just asking,’ the old man replied. Tango was now at the window. Ned Chambers, wearing Frazier’s clothing, was approaching the building, the low sunlight behind him, his hat tugged low. ‘Here comes Frazier – you can ask him, seeing you’re so damned curious.’
Almost hesitantly the old man approached the window. Bending down he glimpsed Ned walking toward them, leading a pony. ‘All right,’ the man said, lowering his rifle. ‘I guess I’m starting to get a little jittery.’
‘I guess you are,’ Tango said with a hint of mockery.
They could hear Ned’s boots clicking against the porch and Tango gestured to the old man to open the door. He did so, lowering his rifle to hold it loosely in one hand. As Ned stepped in, head lowered, the old man exclaimed: ‘What’s this? You ain’t Frazier!’
