With the horses once again under control, the passengers, though noticeably shaken still, began to recover their wits from the chaotic minutes just passed. Ethel Potter tore a strip from her petticoat to fashion a bandage around Frank's head, while Henry Murphy hastened to pull up his trousers. Adam reached down to pick up his .44, and was cleaning the dirt from it when he felt Bonnie at his elbow. “Mister,” she said, “you don't say much of anything most of the time. But when your fuse gets lit, damned if you ain't a regular tornado.”
Adam dropped his pistol in its holster. “Maybe you could take a look at Mr. Murphy's shoulder,” he suggested. “It doesn't look like much.” His mind was already on the four horses that had galloped away with empty saddles, especially since he was in need of one to replace Brownie. Two of them had stopped about one hundred yards away at the mouth of the ravine. One of them, a bay, had already caught his eye. He was always partial to bays. “I expect we'd better collect the guns and cartridges off these bodies,” he commented to Potter. “No use lettin' them lie out here to rust.” He walked over to two of the bodies and reached down to pull the mask from one of them, only to be startled a moment later.
Rob Hawkins
, he thought, one of the men who had camped with him. Glancing at the other body close by, he found it easy to guess who it was. Short and stocky, it had to be Rob's friend, and he thought for a minute before remembering the nameâ
Jim Highsmith. I reckon they were looking to do a different kind of mining
. He found it especially ironic when he thought back on how they had cautioned him to beware of road agents. He could almost see Mose Stebbins nodding his head and saying, “I told you you'd better be careful who you turn your back on.”
With his dignity somewhat restored, Murphy spoke up. He begrudgingly offered an apology. “I guess I owe you thanks for protecting my gold shipment, and I reckon I was wrong in suspecting you of being part of the robberies on this road.”
“I don't reckon you owe me any thanks,” Adam replied. “I wasn't protectin' your shipment. I don't give a damn about your gold. I was more interested in savin' the lot of us from ending up like these fellows.” He pulled the weapons and gun belts from the bodies.
“I understand how you could feel that way,” Murphy said. “Maybe I deserve it, but there is no animosity on my part.” He turned to send a scathing gaze in Bonnie's direction, even as she was attending the slight wound on his shoulder. “Perhaps our lives would not have been threatened had it not been for that careless action of yours. Thanks to you, we could have all been killed.”
Bonnie met his scornful stare with one equally defiant. “You and your damn gold can go to hell,” she spat. “No man's gonna lay hands on me like that and stick a gun in my face without paying for it.” For emphasis, she pinched the scrape on his shoulder, causing him to yelp.
“I expect Bonnie's the one that saved your precious gold for you,” Adam said. “If she hadn't shot that fellow, they mighta took your gold and left us all aliveâor maybe not. One way or the other, they'd have taken the gold.”
“We can stand around here jawin' until them other two decide to come back for another try,” Mutt interrupted. “Or we can get the hell on the road again and make the three miles on into Bannack.” They needed no further encouragement to climb back in the coach.
“I'm needin' a horse,” Adam told Mutt.
Mutt understood. As Adam walked toward the end of the draw, Mutt drove the horses slowly up behind him. “I'd appreciate it if you'd ride along with us to Bannack. I kinda like havin' you along.”
“Be glad to,” Adam replied, “if you'll give me time to catch me a horse. I might have to chase one all over the territory if they spook easy.”
About a minute was all it took, for the bay gelding that Billy Crabtree had ridden stood patiently waiting while Adam approached, and made no move to resist when he took hold of the bridle and stroked the horse's face. After letting the horse smell his shirt for a few seconds to become familiar with his scent, Adam climbed into the saddle and walked the gelding slowly over to pick up the reins of the second horse, a sorrel. Both horses seemed content to go with him. The only problem, a minor one, was the necessity to lengthen the stirrups to fit his long legs. But that could wait until he got to Bannack.
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It was close to ten o'clock when the coach pulled up to a stop in front of the Meade House, and the weary passengers climbed down, thankful to have arrived safely in Bannack. They were met by the night clerk of the hotel, who stood ready to welcome them and help with luggage. “Runnin' a little late, ain't you, Mutt?”
“Made a little stop I hadn't planned on,” Mutt replied, then went on to explain.
“My Lordy me!” the clerk exclaimed. “You're lucky nobody got killed. I don't know which one of the sheriff's deputies is on duty tonight. I reckon you'll wanna go tell him what happened.”
“There ain't no hurry about it,” Mutt scoffed. “He ain't likely to do any thin' about it. I'll let the station boss go see the sheriff in the mornin'.”
Understanding Mutt's indifference toward reporting the attempted holdup to the law, Adam shrugged and dismounted from the bay gelding. He looped the reins of both his newly acquired horses to the hitching rail, in case they hadn't accepted the fact that they now belonged to him. He got his saddle and saddlebags from the coach, then paused for a moment to look around him. While the little town on Grasshopper Creek was already declining from its heyday of a year or so before, it still managed a lively business in the saloons, with all four roaring away full blast. In addition to the saloons, there were three hotels, two stables, plus quite a few stores, all of them built of logs. It looked like the kind of town that would attract Jake.
Looking furtively over his shoulder, lest he might suddenly be attacked, Henry Murphy handed the key to the padlock to Mutt and waited impatiently for him to unlock it. “Why, I declare,” Mutt exclaimed upon opening the compartment, “it's empty. There ain't nothin' in here.”
“What!” Murphy sputtered, failing to notice the devilish grin on Mutt's face. He grabbed the door of the coach for support when his knees threatened to fail him.
“I'm just japin' ya,” Mutt said with a hearty chuckle for his joke. He took the pouches from the box and handed them down.
Humiliated to the point of anger, Murphy took possession of his gold, but not without threatening the grizzled stage driver with the loss of his job. “Your superiors will certainly hear of your outrageous behavior on this trip. You'll be looking for another job by tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Mutt replied. “Glad you enjoyed your trip. Thanks for travelin' with A. J. Oliver and Company.” He looked at Adam and grinned, thoroughly pleased by Murphy's reaction.
Adam stepped out of Murphy's way as the disgruntled passenger hurried into the hotel to put his treasure in the hotel safe. When Mutt climbed down, Adam remarked, “I don't believe Murphy has much of a sense of humor. He might cost you your job.”
Mutt chucked again. “Hell, the company has enough trouble findin' drivers dumb enough to take the run between here and Virginia City. I ain't worried about it. Besides, I couldn't resist it. Did you see him grab hold of the door?” He threw his head back and indulged himself with another hearty laugh. “I thought he was gonna pee his britches.” He gave Adam a hand with his saddle and when it was securely settled on top of the saddle that was already on the sorrel, he said, “I 'preciate you ridin' along with us, and I sure as hell wanna thank you for savin' all our butts back there in that ravine.”
“I wanna add my thanks to that,” Frank Potter said, walking up behind Adam. “You know, we were dead for sure when that woman jerked that outlaw's bandanna down. So me and my missus are beholden to you.” He stuck out his hand and Adam shook it. “I just wish you were goin' on to Salt Lake City with us.” He flashed a wide smile then and said, “I ain't ever seen greased lightning before, but I reckon I can say I've seen it now.”
Hardly knowing how to respond to the accolades, Adam hesitated in his response. He really wasn't comfortable in the role of hero. Finally he managed an answer. “Well, I'm glad everythin' worked in our favor. We were just lucky, I reckon. It could have turned out a whole lot worse.”
Mutt watched Adam's embarrassment with a great deal of interest. Some men would rush to the nearest saloon to crow about running off a gang of road agents. When the Potters left to follow their luggage inside the hotel, Mutt asked Adam what he was going to do now that he had reached Bannack. “Well,” Adam replied, “I reckon I'll have to see about these horses first. Then I'll have to start lookin' for my brother.”
“There's two stables in town, one of 'em next door to the stage office,” Mutt suggested. “Why don't you put your horses up there? Then I'd be proud to buy you a drink. Whaddaya say?”
“I could use a drink,” Adam replied, hesitating, “but I need to see if I can find out what happened to my brother.”
“This day's about done,” Mutt said. “By the time you get your horses took care of, and I check my coach in at the office, it'll be too late to get started. So you might as well have a drink or two and start on it in the mornin'.”
Adam thought it over for a moment before replying, “You know, Mutt, I believe you talked me into it.”
“Maybe you'd like to buy me one, too.” They turned to see Bonnie Wells standing behind them. “Hell, I could use one after that ride.”
Mutt only hesitated a moment before answering, “Maybe I would at that. I ain't ever met a woman with more starch in her. Whaddaya say, Blaine?”
“Suits me,” Adam replied. “I reckon the lady deserves somethin' for takin' care of one of those outlaws. What was his name?”
“Billy Crabtree,” Bonnie said. “I thought he mighta been riding with that bunch of cutthroats. Billy always had money to spend, but damned if I know that he ever worked anywhere to get it.”
It occurred to Adam at that point that he had not asked Bonnie if she knew his brother. Jake was as likely as any man to seek out the services of a prostitute. “You ever run across my brother, Jake Blaine?” he asked.
“Is that your brother?” Bonnie responded. “Sure, I know Jake. I never done any business with him, but I saw him a few times when I was working here before. He was sweet on a young girl from Kansas that used to work in the Miner's Friend.”
Her reply captured Adam's attention immediately. “The Miner's Friend,” he repeated. “Where is that?” When she pointed toward the upper end of the street, Adam asked, “Do you know where to find Jake?”
“Well, no,” she replied. “I've been up in Virginia City for the past six months. Even when I was living here, I didn't know where he stayed. I don't think he had any permanent camp, just drifted around like a lot of them.”
Thinking that he at least had a start in his efforts to track his brother down, Adam thanked her and offered to buy her drink himself. “Give Mutt and me time to take care of the horses and we'll meet you at the Miner's Friend. That okay with you, Mutt?”
“One's as good as another,” Mutt said, “long as they've got whiskey.” They parted then, Adam and Mutt to the stable, and Bonnie to the saloon.
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“Mister, seems to me you either got too many saddles or not enough horses,” Wilber Jenkins drawled when Adam led his horses into the stable.
“That's a fact,” Adam said, relieved to find someone still at the stable at that hour. “To tell you the truth, I'm lookin' to trade these two extra saddles and pick up a packsaddle and some supplies. I left most of mine by a badger hole between here and Virginia City.”
“Talk to Mr. Thompson when he comes in in the mornin',” Wilber said. “He might be interested in tradin' with you.”
“I'll do that,” Adam said. “This one stays with me.” He threw his saddle in a corner of the stall, and left the other two near the door where they could be easily seen. “I've got a couple of rifles and two handguns here that I'd also like to trade.” When his horses were taken care of, he went to meet Mutt and Bonnie.
Idaho Territory until a short time before then, Bannack was now part of Montana. Gold was discovered along Grasshopper Creek in '62 and the rush was on for the next couple of years. The town had even been the capital of Montana briefly in '64, before it was moved to Virginia City when the gold began to peter out and folks moved on to new strikes in Alder Gulch. As Adam walked up the street, he could read the unmistakable signs of a dying town in the dark storefronts he passed, many of them empty. The throbbing pulse of the saloons was the only indication that life was still vigorous in the failing town, and he walked past two of them before reaching the door of the Miner's Friend, where he found Mutt just coming from the stage office.
“I give 'em my report 'bout the holdup,” Mutt volunteered as he stepped up on the narrow boardwalk. “Broadus Sims is the station manager here for A. J. Oliver. He said to tell you thanks for protectin' the stage. He wanted to come with me and buy you a drink, but I told him it would probably not be a good idea to make a fuss over you. Too many men around here are in with that sorry bunch of road agents. No use causin' you more trouble.”
“I'm glad you talked him out of it,” Adam said. “I expect he'll report the incident to the sheriff, or is that your job?”
“Neither,” Mutt replied. “It wouldn't do no good to tell the sheriff about it. Hell, he's Plummer's man, same as the outlaws he's supposed to be catchin'. I expect he'll be sore as hell when he finds out the stage got through with all the money on board.” He went on to remind him, “There ain't no real law and order in this town or Virginia City. Henry Plummer was the sheriff here before he got hisself appointed deputy marshal over in Virginia City. The sheriff here now is Albert Ainsworth, just one of his men, and there's a lot of honest folk hereabouts that's pretty sure Plummer's behind every robbery and murder that happens on these mountain trails between the towns. Course there ain't no way to prove it, and every time somebody questions it, they likely show up dead or missin'.”