Hell's Gate (Ben Blue Book 8) Read online

  Catching up with Patty Anne, I asked about Sam. She told me that he was better, but he’d have to be quiet and not go getting upset or worried for awhile. She was concerned about his left arm and his speech, which was natural. I told her I’d talk to him and maybe ease his mind a bit.

  “Would you, Ben? He’s so worried about the money, I’m afraid he’ll worry himself into a worse one.”

  I told her I would and headed in that direction. I tapped once and started to open it when it opened by itself. Consuela, a young Mexican girl who helped Patty Anne and Maria was standing there with a tray of food that looked to be no more than half eaten if that much. I stepped back and let her pass.

  “He didn’t eat much, did he?”

  She looked up with sorrowful eyes and said, “No Señor Been…He just picks on his food.” She was shaking her head as she turned toward the kitchen with the tray. I went on into the room. Sam was sitting up in his big comfortable easy chair with his feet propped up on that all purpose short legged table. We made a little small talk about his comfort and if he was feeling better…in other words, the kind of talking people do when they don’t know how to get to the meat of what they came to say. I stumbled around it for a bit and finally said what he needed to hear.

  “Sam… I don’t want you to sit here in that big old chair and make yourself sicker and sicker. You’ve been dealt a cruel and harsh blow, and so have the Tucker girls. But worryin’ about it won’t make it go away. I care too much about your scrawny old hide, to see you sittin’ here gettin’ yourself worse.

  “The MB can carry the Esses and the Rockin’ J till Charlie can get them both on solid ground again… You won’t lose the ranch, so just get that off your mind.”

  “I’ll be leavin’ in the morning, with Flynn to go up there and clean that rat’s nest out. There’s already two men up there with Buck, and Marshal Claybrook is coming in from Colorado. We’ll try and recover as much of the money as is still there. They’ve got about four days on us, but I don’t think they’re goin’ anywhere.”

  “Ben, I can’t let you go off like that. It ain’t your money that was stole.”

  “No, it wasn’t my money, but it was family money and friend money. And that makes it personal… we all got to stick together and look out for each other… Just like when Shad Cain took to the trail when little Andy was kidnapped… It wasn’t his boy, but he took it personal. And besides, you don’t have much to say about it. Patty Anne wants it and Marshal Stewart blessed it. So I don’t have a choice… even if I wanted one.”

  “I don’t want to be worryin’ about you or Patty Anne while I’m gone. So the best thing you can do to help get your money back is get all those bad thoughts out of your head… And for God’s sake, do what the doc and Patty Anne tell you.”

  He didn’t say anything. He just sat there and looked at his feet propped up on that table. I turned and started for the door. As I was reaching for the knob he called out and said, “Ben…Thanks.”

  Chapter 3

  We rode out just after sun up. There were a lot of miles ahead of us, and the money was already four or five days gone. We needed to stop at the Esses to see if Smokey Johnson could tell us anything more.

  The stop at the Esses was fruitless, Johnson was a messenger, and knew only what Sandy Corbel had told him. So we headed northwest toward the river. We’d cross farther north where the banks of the gorge were a little more accessible. Two hours later we were pushing west along the trail Charlie had told us about. The rest of the day was steady riding. We gave our horses breathers along the way. At least that’s what we told ourselves. The truth be known, the breathers were mostly for our sake.

  About mid morning the following day, we saw dust a good distance off. It would either be a troop of cavalry or Charlie’s returning drovers pushing their remuda along. It turned out to be the drovers. The first one I looked for was Sandy Corbel. Jake Masterson was in charge, so he was the second face I looked for.

  Corbel left his job moving the horses and came directly to us, as soon as he saw us. The others gathered around but no one dismounted.

  “Jake, we need the use of a couple of good horses, to switch off with … I got the go ahead from Charlie, if that’s a problem.”

  “Hell, Blue, you’re welcome to all of ‘em, if you need ‘em. We kinda figured you’d be along. Kinda half figured that Irish hellion would be with you too.” He tilted his head toward Flynn.

  “Hopin’ you’d feel that way, Jake. I need to have a few words with Sandy, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Take him too…if you want. He’s been driving me crazy… always wantin’ to turn around and go back.”

  I looked at Sandy and he nodded, so I told him to get his stuff and pick out three good horses.

  “Cut out that hammer head roan, the blaze faced black with the white sox, and the dapple gray.” Jake called out to Sandy as he headed for the chuck wagon to get his bedroll and whatever else.

  Within fifteen minutes, we were nearly ready to leave. Before we mounted, I asked Corbel what he was shooting. He showed me his Colt .44, and his old sixteen shot Henry. It looked in good shape, so we picked up an extra box of cartridges from the chuck wagon. We’d switched our saddles to the fresh horses, and we were on our way.

  We were a little over two hundred miles from Junction City. At fifty miles a day switching mounts, we were still four days away… barring any problems. I’d never been to Junction City, nor had Flynn, but Corbel had just come from there and said it was a dry and miserable ride. Fortunately, he also knew where the water was.

  I wondered how Sandy Corbel and Mike Flynn would take to each other, but I needn’t have worried. They knew each other but not being members of the same crew, they never got to know each other well.

  Corbel was a young man of spirit. He probably never pointed a gun at another man in his life, but I had no doubt he’d be there when the time came to pull a trigger. He and Flynn were about the same size, five nine or so. Corbel was a few years younger, but he was a better and more experienced cattle man. Flynn had spent his younger years as part of the Irish underground doing everything and anything to cause problems for the British.

  Sandy, true to his name, was fair where the sun hadn’t turned him brown. His hair was the color of straw, which was quite a contrast to his tanned face. Mike was what folks call Black Irish. They took to each other well enough on the trail, but I wouldn’t want to be snowed in with either in a mountain cabin… and certainly not both.

  It was the evening of the fourth day when three dog tired men and six worn out horses rode down the main and only street in Junction City, New Mexico. We were about as close to the west end of New Mexico as we were likely to get, without getting approval from the Indian Agent and a whole bunch of Navajo, who didn’t especially want us there.

  Junction City* was certainly no great shakes as a city, but most of the buildings were new and still in good shape. Many looked to be no more than a few months old, and the wind and weather hadn’t had their way with them yet.

  *Junction City was later named Farmington.

  Our first task was to find Buck and the others. There were two saloons on the street facing each other on opposite sides. I sent Flynn in one and Corbel in the other looking for one or both of the trail crew. I went on up a ways to a boarding house sign. Tying Smoke, my big gray, I looped the leads of the three spare horses over the same rail.

  Knocking some of the dust off with my hat, I accomplished nothing more than creating a dust storm on the porch. So I gave it up and went through the door. I was greeted by a cheerful middle aged woman setting the table in the dining room.

  “How do, Ma’am.” I said. “Pardon for bringin’ all this dust in, but we just got off a mighty long and dusty ride… I was wonderin’ if you could put three men up for a few days? We’d be more than happy to share a room if need be.”

  “Good afternoon. I’m Misses Gladstone the owner and almost everything else. And I do have two r
ooms left… if a couple of you don’t mind doubling up.” I told her the other two wouldn’t mind it at all.

  She laughed and said, “First one in gets to make the arrangements?”

  “Well, there’s always that, but since I’ll be payin’ the bill, I thought I should get some consideration.”

  “But of course, Mister…?”

  “Blue, Ma’am… Ben Blue from Taos.”

  “Ben… Is that Ben Blue out there?” came a voice from somewhere in the back.

  “That’s Mister Blaylock… He’s been shot… several times.” She whispered.

  “Yes, Ma’am… he’s the reason I’m here.”

  I called back to tell him it was me, and she showed me to a room in the back, where I found Buck Blaylock propped up in bed, with various bandages wrapped around various limbs, and one around his upper chest.

  “Buck… how are you… We didn’t know if you were dead or alive. You look pretty good for a corpse.”Our hostess told me to see her when I was finished and disappeared.

  “Well I can’t think of a face I’d rather see than yours. How many men did you bring?”

  “Just Flynn and Sandy… but there’s a US Marshal on the way, What about the two men who came back from the crew?”

  “They’re here… stayin’ here… probably in a saloon about now. There’s Coaker and Billy Stevens… both tough men. They’ll be glad to see you fellers.”

  “That’ll make six when Marshal Claybrook get’s here…it’s a start.”

  “You got a plan, Ben?”

  “The only plan I got right now is to start huntin’ Coyotes… I’ll try to get a line on them, and then see where it takes us.”

  “Is there anything you remember that can help? No matter how unimportant it might seem to be… The only thing Sandy could remember was a lot of shootin’ and he got hit and he was out of it till he came to. The others must have been killed outright.”

  “That’s about it… Kelly and Flanders were riding together in front, then me, and then Sandy in the rear. They came out of the rocks and took the boys up front with the first volley. Me and Corbel headed for the rocks on the other side. They got me in the leg as I was comin’ off my horse, and Corbel dragged me under cover. We gave them what for, but they got me in the arm. Sandy got one of them on the run…or at least he caused one to stumble. Don’t know if that one got to spend any of that money.”

  “Corbel gave me his pistol and took my rifle, since I couldn’t use it proper. I was reloading and Sandy raised up to take a shot and whap… he flew backwards. His whole head was a bloody mess. I thought he was a gonner. Then I took a ricochet in the chest.”

  “Two of them came over and got my saddle bags, like they knew right where to look…Then one of them shot me again, that’s all I remember… Ben…that was thirty nine thousand dollars in gold and currency.”

  “Did you ask for a bank draft?”

  “I did, but he said he didn’t trust banks or bankers, and I was to take it or leave it. I didn’t reckon Sam and the Tucker girls were anxious for me to drive those cattle back, so I took it… I feel like a pure bone head.”

  “You just get some rest, and let me and Marshal Claybrook sort this thing out… I’ll be back later.”

  Mrs. Gladstone was finishing in the dining room when I returned. I found out she had a stable and a fenced pasture in back of the place. Just as I was leaving to take care of the horses, our four men came in. I turned three of them around to take care of the horses and stow the gear. I told Sandy Corbel where Buck was and that he should go see him.

  “Guns, bedrolls, and saddle bags in the house… the rest in the stable.” I called out to the men.

  “Is he gonna be all right, Ben?” Corbel asked.

  “I think so… go on back, he’ll be happy to see you.”

  Chapter 4

  While eating supper, I learned that one of the two saloons had a small hotel attached to it, with about six small rooms upstairs. I also learned there was a town marshal, but he didn’t care to leave the Junction City limits for any reason. If there was trouble, and it started outside of town, he ran all the combatants out of town to settle it. The winners were welcome to come back.

  The hotel would be the best place to look for Ethan Claybrook. So after supper, I took a little stroll down the boardwalk to the accommodating saloon, and sure enough near the back of the room was a hotel desk and off to the side, an open staircase. I could see the balcony surrounding two sides of the room. The man behind the desk was watching, with great interest, a card game not far away.

  So I just sauntered up to the desk and turned the register around. By the time he turned and saw me, I had seen all I needed to. “Can I hep you?” he asked.

  “No thank you,” I said, “I was just checkin’ to see if my friend Mister Claybrook had checked in yet… I was supposed to meet him here… today or tomorrow.”

  “Nope… No Claybrook. All I got is a minin’ engineer and two workin’ gals.

  I thanked him and went to the bar. While drinking a beer, I looked over the room. There was a man registered as George Woodcock, and that’s the name Claybrook had used before, so I was pretty certain Ethan was in town. I stood there lost in a sea of faces, and thinking I should go across the street and check the other saloon when someone bumped into me spilling my drink.

  Looking to my right, I saw the handsome features of US Deputy Marshal, Ethan Claybrook. “I’m sorry… here let me get you another drink… Bartender, another beer for my friend and one for me.”

  “Don’t bother.” I told him, it was almost finished anyway.”

  “No, I insist, Mister…?”

  “Blue… Ben Blue, from over in Taos.” I felt silly play acting that way.

  “To your health Mister Blue, I’m George Woodcock from Baltimore. What line of work are you in Mister Blue?”

  The small talk went on for several minutes; until we finished our drinks and moved on to visit the other saloon across the street. As soon as we were out in the street he started talking.

  “I didn’t know Stewart was sending you up here. Hell, I could have gone on to Denver and to some lovely young ladies I’ve been known to visit.”

  “He didn’t have a choice. I told him I was comin’ with or without his blessings… he blessed me.”

  “What’s the attraction? It looks to be another lawless town that needs to be cleaned up a little. Actually, the Marshal keeps the town pretty well under control.”

  “But he won’t step a foot out of town to lift a hand. A little over a week ago, Patty Anne’s grandpa… you remember Sam Stellars. His trail boss and three men were shot to rags a few miles out of town and robbed of almost forty thousand dollars.”

  “So I’m here to root around and see what I can dig out… If I don’t recover at least a part of that money, a couple of really fine ranches are going to hurtin’ for a couple of years or more. So it’s personal with me.”

  Claybrook thought for a few minutes, and then he said, “Let’s try a little deception… I came in as a mining engineer, so I could move around and not arouse a lot of suspicion. So why don’t you take the high road, and let it be known who you are and what you are. Go to the marshal and let him know you’re a Deputy US Marshal, and you’re here investigating the robbery.”

  “You may have to come down hard on him… he’s pretty hard headed and likes to do things his own way. But I think he’s an honest lawman. I’ve been here since yesterday and picked up a little talk about him. Pin your badge on, and get tough if you have to.”

  “Yeah… That sounds as good as anything I could come up with. They’ll soon find out I’m lookin’ for ‘em, and either come after me or go into hiding. It’ll only take one mistake, and we’ll get the scent.”

  “We? You got someone with you?”

  “I’ve got four tough cowhands… one of them is pretty salty… He was waging war on England until they overwhelmed him and his group and had to flee.”

  “A mick?”
/>
  “Yeah, I told him there were plenty of redcoats here.”

  We said so long there, in the middle of the street, so as not to appear that we knew each other beyond mere acquaintances. I started toward the boardinghouse, and the last I saw of him, he was disappearing into the saloon.

  Bright and early the following morning, five of us were on the trail to the ambush site. The signs were nearly two weeks old and very cold, but I saw where Buck and Sandy had made their stand. Mostly that was due to the churned up ground where their horses had stood during the fire fight. There were plenty of empty brass cartridges. Also there were some tell tale brown blood stains on rocks, and where it had pooled before soaking into the sandy ground.

  The place where our boys had made their fight was protected from the wind, but the ground between there and where the attackers took cover was the main trail. Nothing could be learned from the trail, with dozens of horses using it since the fight.

  I was able to find the outlaws trail, with as many as eight horses in that bunch, there was bound to be some sign. Hopefully there was enough to give us a direction. It wasn’t much of a trail, due to the openness of the area, and the looseness of the soil. The ground was dry and sandy, so a good steady wind would smooth the edges plenty quick. We were able to pick up bits and pieces here and there going in the same general direction. But the tracks had been so worn I couldn’t swear they were part of the same group… although, I was sure they were.

  We followed the little rag tag snatches of trail for a good five miles until it became mixed with large cattle herd. I figured it was most likely the herd Buck and his crew were driving. I halted the group looking the cattle trail over, and asked Billy Stevens, who was closest to me, if he thought that could be the case.

  “I reckon it is, Ben… We were holding them near the town, and the foreman of the Ladder 6 come out and led us up to the ranch… Yep, those must be ours.”

  Coaker added, “Some of the men met us on the range and made a count, then Buck went to the ranch with the foreman and made the deal for thirteen dollars a head. He wanted fifteen, but the tight fisted owner wouldn’t budge, and Buck didn’t want to drive them back to Taos.”