‘It could also be that there’s no need to resort to trickery. They could have been a part of the holdup, you know. Why should we take Stilton’s word about them being regulators? They could already know who Wilson is; they could be part of a plan to assassinate him.’

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ Ned said furrowing his brow, placing the dishrag aside. ‘I haven’t been thinking as clearly as you.’

  No, and there was a reason for that – the tall woman with the long dark hair. Women also were not known for sharpening a man’s mind when he was swept up by one.

  Ned said, ‘I’d better try to get our charges bedded down.’

  ‘I’ve seen Knox at his drinking,’ Tango said. ‘He won’t want to go to bed until the last dog is hung.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Ned replied, ‘and I can’t force him – keep your powder dry,’ he said with a smile, briefly placing his hand on Tango’s shoulder.

  ‘I intend to. Tell me, are there locks on those doors?’

  ‘No. Only hooks.’

  ‘Then,’ Tango said seriously, glancing at Marina who was busy putting dishes away as if this were her home, ‘I’d recommend you keep your door open, Ned. We don’t know who these men are, what they intend.’

  As Tango returned to his chair in the living room, Marina asked Ned, ‘What was that about? I only heard something about leaving our doors open.’

  ‘Not you,’ Ned answered. Feeling awkward, as if he were invading Marina’s privacy, he placed both hands on her shoulders and told her. ‘Tango thinks that something is up, that Stilton’s men may try to do some prowling tonight. He has good instinct for that sort of thing – you might say it’s a part of his job.’

  ‘Oh,’ Marina said, turning her eyes down, but not moving away from Ned Chambers, ‘do you think they may know about my jewels?’

  ‘We don’t know what they may know, and that’s just it,’ Ned told her quietly, glancing toward the open door, where someone – Freeman Cole, possibly – erupted with loud laughter.

  ‘I see,’ Marina said, and now with a little shrug she did move away from Ned and go to the window where, with her arms crossed, she looked out at the rampaging storm. ‘I don’t know what it is, but I’m starting to feel a little cold. I believe I’ll go to bed.’

  ‘I’ll be right next door, and wide awake.’

  That was true. Weary as Ned was, he could not risk falling asleep with these men in the house. He felt that Tango was right. Someone meant to do evil in the way station on this night.

  THREE

  The coal fire was burning low. A soft reddish glow painted the walls and ceiling of the way station. Tango was relaxed and warm, comfortable in the torn leather chair, but he was not sleepy. Rather, he would not let himself grow sleepy. Despite the whiskey he had drunk earlier and the long tiring walk to reach this place he could not allow his body to lose its fighting edge. There would be trouble; he was sure of that.

  Earlier, in the back of the house, he had heard Chris Stilton and his cronies loudly getting ready for bed, joking and grumbling, the high-pitched complaints of Mickey Dent sounding quite clearly. That, Tango did not care about. In his experience men who were up to no good were seldom noisy, boisterous. They prepared silently for their stealthy movements.

  It was much later, when the house grew silent and the fire lost its glow as the storm rampaged on beyond the walls, that each small sound roused his curiosity. He waited, shivering now in the near-warmth of the room, listening to every sound audible above the roar and whistle of the wind.

  Tango thought he heard movement and he rose to his feet. Someone getting out of bed? Drawing boots on silently? There was no telling. He eased toward the entrance to the hallway, drawing his gun, alert for any telltale sound, his eyes searching the dark extent of the corridor. There was the definite creak of a long unoiled door opening. Which of them he could not be sure. Except that it was not Ned Chambers’s door. Ned would have taken Tango’s advice and left his own door ajar. Tango, who was used to facing armed men in his work for the Colorado & Eastern, felt his heart rate begin to lift.

  The door opened a little farther and Tango saw a shadowy figure creep out into the hall. And cross to Lady Simpson’s door. He saw the man carefully try the door handle. Tango was going to have to call him down, no matter what happened. He only hoped that no one would recklessly dash out of the other rooms. Good as Tango was with a gun, he would be shooting half-blind and there would be no room for error if someone – Marina – got caught in a cross-fire. Tango felt that he could wait no longer as the intruder put his shoulder against Lady Simpson’s door and began applying pressure.

  ‘Stand away,’ Tango ordered in a quiet voice. ‘I’ve got you in my sights.’

  ‘The hell with you,’ the man, whose voice Tango now recognized to be that of Chris Stilton, snarled. Then he shouted, ‘Come on, boys! We’ve got a man says he wants to shoot me.’ There was a snorting laugh of bold confidence as Stilton spoke these last words and reached for his holstered pistol. Two men, the Cole brothers judging by their stature, emerged from the room. Tango fired first and saw one of the brothers spin around in a crazy sort of dance toward death. Before Tango could fire again, his brother had gone to a knee and sent a shot from that position in Tango’s direction. Shooting back wildly, Tango rolled toward the shelter of the wall.

  As he reached safety Tango heard the sharp crack of another, smaller-caliber revolver. Ned Chambers and his .36 caliber Remington had joined in the fight. Peering around the corner, Tango saw the other Cole brother standing against the wall, holding his chest. Moments later he slid down the wall into a seated position, his gun dropping free. Chris Stilton had not moved. Instead of firing his weapon he began cursing loudly, profanely.

  ‘Give it up, Stilton,’ Tango called. ‘It’s all over!’

  ‘I guess it is,’ Stilton answered and for a moment Tango thought the man was going to drop his weapon. Then what Tango had feared happened. A stubby figure burst into the corridor, waving angry hands.

  ‘What’s all this about!’ Senator Ruben Knox demanded imperiously, and Stilton shot him. Tango took a duelist’s position and fired twice at Stilton who dropped to the floor beside his victim.

  ‘Tango?’ Ned Chambers called from his room.

  ‘It’s all right. Come on out. Watch it though, there’s still one of them barricaded in his room. Dent.’

  Ned eased from his room, gun held high beside his ear. Adam Wilson saw the dead men, including his friend Knox. He staggered forward, moaning. ‘I tried to stop him! Ruben always was so impetuous.’

  Tango moved cautiously down the hallway to join Ned. He noticed that Lady Simpson had not opened her door. It seemed that she was good at taking orders. Marina was a good soldier.

  Ned was at the outlaw’s door. Tango moved up to the opposite side, nodded a signal and kicked the door open. A cold blast of winter air met them, blasting through a narrow, broken window. Ned Chandler eased to the window and looked out. He could easily make out Mickey Dent’s bootprints, lining out toward the south, in the direction of the railroad tracks. Adam Wilson had come into the room behind them.

  ‘The little coward bolted, did he?’ Wilson asked.

  ‘Could be,’ Ned said, glancing at Tango. Wilson was puzzled. Ned explained it to him:

  ‘It could be he just panicked and ran off, or it could be that he’s on his way to get help. We don’t know if these four were alone or if they were part of a larger gang: the ones who ambushed the train.’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ Wilson said, thoughtfully nibbling at his lower lip. ‘What are we to do then?’

  ‘Get the hell out of here,’ Tango said with emphasis. ‘We’ve got four horses left by Stilton and his men.’

  ‘And hundreds of miles to go,’ Wilson said miserably.

  ‘That’s right,’ Tango replied. They were aware now of Marina standing in the doorway behind them, her face pale after passing the carnage in the corridor.

  ‘Is it over now?’ she asked shakily, looking at them in turn. ‘Ned? Tango?’

  It was Ned Chambers who answered her. ‘We can hope so, Marina, but I have the feeling that this was only the beginning of our troubles.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll get dressed. I heard Tango say we’re going for a ride.’

  ‘That’s quite a woman,’ Tango said after she was gone.

  ‘You’re just now noticing that?’ Ned Chambers responded. Then he stalked off to get dressed, Wilson in his wake.

  ‘I’m going to see what they left us in the way of horseflesh,’ Tango called into Ned’s room.

  ‘All right,’ Ned Chambers answered, emerging as he finished tucking in his shirt. ‘I’ll be getting these men out of here. They’d be a nasty surprise for the next traveler stopping by.’

  ‘What are you going to do with them?’ they heard Adam Wilson ask.

  ‘All we can do – drag them around back. I hate to leave them to the critters, but there’s nothing else to be done. We obviously can’t dig graves out there just now. Even if we could, we don’t want to be wasting the time to do it. Who knows if that Mickey Dent is going to come back with more riders.’

  Wilson sighed heavily, nodding his head in agreement. ‘You’re right, of course, I’ll give you a hand. Let me first remove any personal items from poor Ruben’s pockets.’

  Tango turned to leave, glad that for once he had not gotten the dirty job. He preferred live horses to dead men any time. His relief collapsed briefly as he opened the door and met the full force of the storm once more. The wind had not abated, and though the snowfall had lightened somewhat, the wind drove it into his face like thrown pebbles. Tango ducked his head and started on toward the stable.

  There was not much left of the old place. Shingles had blown away, leaving gaping holes in the roof. There were gaps in the side walls as well, and the cold wind whipped through the building. Four horses lifted their heads from their stalls to warily watch Tango’s approach. Tango walked to the first stall and lifted his hand to stroke the muzzle of a stolid looking buckskin horse.

  ‘That’s right, old-timer,’ he said to the horse. ‘I haven’t got food for you, and I’m going to have to take you out in the weather again.’

  Besides the buckskin there were two nearly identical roan horses – belonging to the Cole brothers? Also there was a smaller, younger paint pony with suspicious eyes. Maybe it had been Mickey Dent’s mount. Tango got to work outfitting the ponies. By the time he was finished and had led the horses to the front of the house, tying them to the hitch rail where the storm flared their manes and tails, Ned Chambers and Wilson had finished their grisly work.

  Marina stood in front of the hearth which contained only a memory of warmth. ‘Are we ready to ride, Mr Tango?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m not,’ he said with a brief laugh, ‘but it looks like that’s what we’re going to do.’

  Ned and Wilson emerged from the back room again, Wilson looking pale and weary. ‘Are we set?’ Ned Chambers asked.

  ‘I brought the horses around.’

  ‘How’s the weather?’ Wilson asked anxiously.

  ‘Not good. The snow’s letting up a little, it seems.’

  ‘Well,’ Wilson said dubiously. ‘There’s no choice, is there? Let’s be moving.’

  ‘Marina,’ said Tango, who had dropped all of that ‘Lady Simpson’ stuff by now, ‘one of the horses – a little paint pony, is more suitable for someone lighter. That will be your horse.’

  ‘All right,’ she said agreeably. Under her arm she held the leather satchel containing her jewelry. ‘Are there saddle-bags?’

  ‘They all had them with their saddles,’ Tango assured her.

  ‘Did you find anything inside the pouches?’ Ned asked.

  ‘I didn’t take the time to look,’ Tango told him. ‘All of the horses were carrying rifles in their scabbards as well, though; they might be of some help.’

  Ned just nodded. He hoped they would not run into another shooting situation, but had no confidence that this would prove so. Adam Wilson stood waiting miserably. ‘I haven’t had much experience riding,’ he said.

  ‘Just keep the horse loose-reined,’ Ned advised. ‘Horses are herding animals – it’ll follow the others along.’

  ‘Are we riding back to the railroad tracks?’ the vice president’s brother wanted to know.

  ‘No. If Mickey Dent did manage to find other members of the gang, we’d find ourselves riding right toward them. We’re taking a little detour, parallel to the tracks, but a few miles north.’

  ‘How do we even know which way north is? In this storm.’

  ‘When the wind blasts you full in the face, you’re traveling north,’ Ned told him. ‘Now, let’s quit wasting time and hit the trail.’

  They started on through the darkness, Tango having chosen the buckskin horse for himself, mounting Maria on the small paint pony. Ned and Wilson rode the two roans. Watching Wilson try to guide his horse might have been laughable under other circumstances. His face was grim; he seemed to balance himself in the saddle instead of using his knees. He rode with his back ramrod stiff, the reins sliding like slippery eels between his fingers. Wilson had been holding up pretty well to this point. Now it seemed that his dread of riding was the worst of his trying experiences. The snow had almost ceased; the wind seemed to be abating somewhat. Looking over his shoulder, Tango thought he saw a line of gray to the east. Daylight was arriving sooner than he had realized. Which was good and not so good. Anyone tracking them could easily follow the prints their horses were leaving in the hock-deep snow.

  Tango eased his horse up beside Ned Chambers and said above the wind, ‘Well, you’ve got both of your special passengers out of trouble; you’ll make it.’

  ‘All we have to do is find a trail up another four thousand feet of mountain without food, water, feed for the horses,’ Ned said glumly.

  ‘Well, that’s what they pay you for, Ned,’ Tango answered.

  ‘You talk as if you’re not going with us,’ Ned said in amazement.

  ‘I don’t think I will be,’ Tango said easily, earnestly.

  ‘What’s that?’ Wilson who had drawn even with the two asked. Behind them the sky was coloring. Crimson and deep violet showed through the shifting clouds. ‘You’re not riding with us, Mr Tango?’

  ‘I don’t think so, sir.’

  ‘Why? Have you got a better idea?’

  ‘It’s not better; it’s a matter of duty,’ Tango said as both men watched him, puzzlement on their faces.

  ‘All right, Tango,’ Ned Chambers said, ‘explain yourself.’

  Tango briefly turned his eyes down as a wind gust lifted snow from the ground and flung it in their faces. ‘Mr Chambers here,’ he told Wilson, ‘had his assignment. Keeping you and Marina safe. I have only my standing orders to watch out for the railroad’s interests.’

  ‘Meaning what?’ Marina who had caught up with them shouted above the wind.

  ‘Meaning that we have a train missing and a lot of cold and angry passengers left behind. These people paid the Colorado and Eastern money to get where they were going, and they deserve to have any assistance that we can give them.’

  ‘I don’t see what you can do,’ Wilson grumbled.

  ‘Neither do I, truthfully,’ Tango admitted. ‘But I’m supposed to try. That’s what I get paid for.’

  ‘So, you’re … what?’ Marina asked. ‘Going to chase down the train?’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll have to do that,’ Tango said with more confidence than he felt. ‘I believe I know where the train is.’

  ‘How could you?’ Wilson asked.

  When Tango answered, he was speaking to Ned. ‘You know where the Northrop cut-off is, don’t you?’

  ‘What’s that?’ Marina asked.

  Ned told her, ‘It’s a spur that was originally constructed to reach a town called Northrop. The only problem was that by the time the cut-off had been constructed, the town had already expired. They experienced a brief, rich run as a gold town, but the ore ran out in no time and the people scattered, leaving the Colorado & Eastern with a useless spur.

  ‘Why Mr Tango here thinks they took the train there, you’d have to ask him. We have the two passengers they might have profited in kidnapping if they were in it for political reasons or simply had heard about Marina’s half a million in jewels. And as far as we could tell from our position, they didn’t even bother to rob the passengers left on board. Simply threw them from the train to stand in the weather. So, Tango. What is it you think the robbers wanted?’

  ‘Oh, they’ve already got it,’ Tango drawled.

  ‘If not money …’ Marina said.

  ‘Oh, it’s money, believe me. And they’ve already got it.’

  ‘What are you talking about, Tango?’ Wilson asked in exasperation.

  ‘It’s the first time I’ve ever heard of anyone trying it,’ Tango answered. ‘But I think they were after the train itself. The ransom they might demand from the railroad for its return is more than they could have gotten even if they had known about Marina’s jewels. If it had been someone after you, Mr Wilson, they wouldn’t have stopped looking when they did.

  ‘No, sir, I think we’ve witnessed the kidnapping of an entire railroad train.’

  FOUR

  As the sky began to clear at mid-morning Wilson especially could see the situation they were in. Snow blanketed the ground and behind them the crimson-violet eastern sky flared brightly, hiding the disc of the rising sun. But ahead, looming prodigiously, stood the bulk of the Rocky Mountains with purple, snow-capped peaks rising to over 14,000 feet. Folded, convoluted, they were an impossible, impassible barrier.

  ‘My God,’ he muttered, ‘are we to enter those!’

  ‘Denver’s at just over five thousand feet, about fifteen miles from here,’ Ned answered. ‘We won’t be trying those high peaks, no. No man can ride up there.’

  ‘Even so,’ Wilson said shakily. ‘What does that leave us from here? Another three thousand feet nearly straight up to travel. Can we do it? Can the horses do it?’

 

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