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CHAPTER 24

      CHARLIE LYDECKER had been a bartender at the Rose for four months, and he was a man who knew how to keep his eyes open.

      He had to, because there was always the chance that some lawman would come to town and notice that he looked an awful lot like a wanted poster of one Thomas S. Griggs with his beard shaved off. Then Charlie would have to leave Tres Marias very fast, just like he left the last six places.

      Because of his watchfulness, Charlie knew there were unusual doings in town. Elmer Watson and Homer Gaines had huddled upstairs a couple of days ago, then Homer went out and never did come back. Charlie also noticed that Watson's store was shut down and hadn't been open for business since that time, either.

      He figured they were off together, no doubt involved in something big and profitable. Charlie hoped that Gaines would come back safe because stealing from the saloon was so easy. Homer Gaines was so busy stealing the big stuff that Charlie had no trouble stealing the little stuff.

      This morning Jason Moore, one of his better customers, came in during daylight, which was unusual because he should have been out looking for gold at that time of day. Moore sneaked himself on a barstool and real quick snuffled down a couple of whiskeys, saying only, "Anything goin' on, Charlie?" When Charlie answered not that he knew, Moore ran out, and rode around town looking at it as though it was a piece of choice real estate he was thinking of buying.

      Then he came back in and had two more whiskeys, pointed a finger at Lydecker and said ominously, "Sure is quiet out there, ain't it!" After which he paid up and left again.

      Lydecker went to the front window and saw Moore studying Amhearst's place, walking around it and looking through the windows, and a few minutes later, Lydecker had to go out back to the privy, and there was Moore again, sitting on his horse looking up the stairs that led to the second floor where Gaines lived.

      A while later, Moore ducked back inside for a couple more whiskeys that he slugged down and paid for before bounding out again, this time paying attention to various approaches to Watson's store, all with the same unconcerned innocent look that Lydecker used to use when he was in the robbery business, except, of course, Lydecker thought he did it much better.

      When Lydecker thought that Moore had covered every conceivable portion of Tres Marias, he saw him ride over to Hopper's place and circle it. Then he dropped in on McClamus before popping back to the Rose for two more whiskeys. No sooner did he wipe off his mouth than he took off yet again, this time up the hill toward Nugent's house, where he shielded his eyes with his hand and stared at the house for a long time, before coming back for two more.

      Then he went out again, wobbling a little, but before he could mount up he stopped thunderstruck as about two dozen Chinese came riding into town, looking all the world like any other hard-riding bunch, except for their slanty eyes and the pigtails some of them wore sticking out from under their hats. Lydecker ran out on the porch to see them for himself as they thundered past, heading up the hill to Nugent's big house.

      Moore came back in and fixed Lydecker with a squinted eye and announced loudly, "Somethin's up!" He slumped against the bar and had two more. Lydecker, who always kept track, figured that, counting the cheater jigger that didn't deliver a full ounce or whiskey, Moore had consumed about ten ounces of the stuff. Then he figured in the amount the bottle was watered down, and that amounted to only eight ounces. Still, a lesser man than Moore would have been flat on his back, considering how poisonous the stuff was.

      About twenty minutes later, while Moore was thinking so hard Lydecker thought he could hear the rocks grinding together, they heard more horses and both of them looked out the front window to see Sheriff Amhearst with his own posse of 14 men riding across the river and up the slope to Euc Hopper's place.

      That did it.

      Lydecker poured himself a drink from Gaines' private bottle and considered things carefully. Then he cleaned out the money box. He went upstairs to Gaines' place and searched it until he found the stash that Gaines had milked out of Nugent's share of the Rose's profits and put it in his pockets. It looked like a couple of thousand at least — as good as Lydecker ever got from robbing a bank. He came downstairs and put on his hat and coat. He slid the bottle of Gaines' whisky over to Moore and said. "This is the good stuff. Drink all you want, it's on the house."

      As an afterthought he handed Moore the key to the place. "When you're done, please lock up."

      After that, Lydecker headed back to his place, packed his bedroll with his possessions and the money he stole, and rode out of town on his spavined horse. Leadville seemed a pretty good bet to him. He had never been there.

      He also decided that Melvin P. Rittenhouse would be a fine new name to use.

      When he saw the Chinese riding up the hill, Nugent felt a wonderful sense of relief. Che'en Po had actually done it! He shouted for Luna to come down and they stood on the porch waiting for the riders. Clay came out holding his Colt, and asked if he should shoot them, but Nugent laughed and shook his head. "Not unless I give the word, Clay."

      Nugent's happiness didn't last long. As the riders grew close enough to see well, his smile evaporated. These men were looking at him the way pirates looked at their victims. One of them said something in Chinese and the others laughed. Nugent didn't like that laugh. Even Che'en had an arrogance about him that Nugent had never seen before. Nugent was glad the porch was elevated so he could look down on them.

      "Okay, boss?" Che'en said, gesturing to the men.

      "Yeah, they're good." Nugent said with forced enthusiasm.

      "This is Mr. Chang, the leader," Che'en said, pointing to a middle-aged rider, better dressed than the others, who rode a horse as good as Nugent's best.

      Nugent nodded at him. Chang smiled, displaying a mouthful of gold teeth. Then he said something else in Chinese and the others laughed again.

      "Do you speak English?" Nugent asked.

      "I speak," Chang said.

      "Set your men up around the house. I have a hundred dollars for the first man who kills anybody coming up the hill."

      Chang nodded.

      Nugent turned and gently pushed Luna through the doorway into the house ahead of him. Clay followed behind him.

      "I don't like the way they look at us," Luna said.

      Nugent walked to guncase on the loft, and took down a double barreled shotgun and gave it to her. "Take this and carry it with you this every minute. Use it if you must."

      He looked out the window to see what they were doing. Much to his surprise, they were taking up positions around the house just as he had ordered. They were hunkering down on the ground at the edge of the clearing behind the house, and in front so they could see the road. Chang strutted around, a cocky rooster checking their positions, telling them where to look.

      About an hour later, the Chinese were sitting like statues, while the sky was darkening fast, although it was only about noon. From the upstairs bedroom window, Nugent saw more than a dozen riders heading for Hopper's house. He got his field glasses and made out Amhearst in the lead.

      Suddenly he decided he liked his Chinese troops after all.

      The riders Amhearst brought with him to Tres Marias were a sorry-looking group. Travis, their leather-faced leader kept them moving, but they were as sallow a group of barflies as Amhearst had ever seen. One of them had fallen off his horse on the way up. Most looked as though they would run away at the first shot.

      Amhearst decided that after the shootout he'd have a talk with Fraser and get his money back, or maybe a price reduction — this little army wasn't worth half what they cost.

      "You're sure these are the experienced fighters Fraser said they were?" Amhearst asked Travis.

      "Yes sir, they'll fight — you wait and see. All it takes is for them to be shot at a little," Travis answered smugly. Looking at him, and Amhearst was put in mind of a little terrier dog who could bark and bite but not do much damage.

      The men were such a sorry-looking lot that Ellie wouldn't let them in the house, except for Travis. The others sat around in the shed where two of them opened the hearse and crawled inside for a little shut eye.

      Amhearst took Hopper into the kitchen away from Travis. "Did you see anything?" he asked Hopper.

      "If you're inquiring about 20 Chinese riding up the hill less than an hour ago, yeah, I've seen something."

      Amhearst grunted at through he'd been punched. "I was hoping we could beat 'em here."

      "Wish you had at that," Hopper said. He looked worried."

      Amhearst went back into the parlor and outlined his objectives to Travis for the third time since they'd started the ride to Tres Marias. "I want you to take your men up that hill and kill Nugent, the man who owns the house. He's got a halfwit boy up there in the house with him, and a wife. Don't let anything happen to the woman. She's not to be hurt, understand?"

      Travis appeared not to hear him.

      "I want you to do it now!" Amhearst shouted.

      That got a rise out of Travis. His face twisted in disapproval. "My men are tired now after that long ride. They got to rest, ain't they? Why, we can't just go up that hill and get mowed down. Those people got the high ground."

      "I thought that's what you're supposed to do," Amhearst said. "What are else are we paying you for?"

      He looked exasperatedly at Hopper, who offered no help, and then he made a decision. He drew his Colt and cocked it and stuck it hard under Travis' chin. "You got one hour. If I don't hear shooting from up there, I'm going to shove this gun in your ear and blow your head off. Now get going!"

      "You're joshin' me," Travis said.

      "Try me," Amhearst said. "Now go out there and get your men started. You can ride up that little canyon over there and get behind the hill, then go up on foot the back way, and sneak up on them. There's a lot of trees that way and you'll have cover."

      Travis gaped at him slack-jawed. "I do believe you're serious."

      Amhearst was dead serious. "I want to hear shooting in an hour, understand? And if you think you or your so-called men can cut and run, think again. Me and Mr. Hopper will be watching you, and we will drill any man we see coming down the hill, front or back, until after the fight is over. Now git!"

      Smoldering with rage, Travis stumped outside and headed for the shed.

      "Tom, I wouldn't let that little worm get behind me, if I were you," Hopper said. "Especially after he finds out that there's an army of Chinks up there. Do you know you forgot to tell him about the Chinks?"

      "I didn't think he'd go if I told him. Anyway he'll find out soon enough. And he was probably right about those men fighting when they're shot at a little."

      "I guess." Hopper said.

      In a few minutes Travis and his men came out of the shed grumbling and casting hard glances in the direction of the house. They rode off in the direction to town, while Amhearst and Hopper watched them, half expecting them to turn and head back toward Denver. But instead, Travis led them into the small canyon that would take them up behind Nugent's house.

      "He could be a tough little bastard, after all," Amhearst said grudgingly.

      Purdy and the miners knew nothing of these doings. They were warming themselves around a roaring fire set among the river rocks. The snow was coming down in small heavy grains that bounced off their clothing and stung when the wind whipped it against their faces.

      They were talking about leaving the fire for the comfort of the tents when Jason Moore came galloping in like a Pony Express rider, skidded his mount to a stop, half-fell out of the saddle, and wobbled up to Purdy and saluted him.

      Purdy could smell the whiskey drifting from him like a cloud. Moore's eyes were bloodshot and his speech was slurred.

      They listened while Moore told him about the two gangs that had come to town — the Chinese heading for Nugent's place on the hill; the sorry-looking white men who had headed for the funeral parlor. It appeared to Moore that war was due to break out at any minute. During one of his forays he had talked with the liveryman, McClamus, and learned that Watson was dead — apparently killed by Amhearst. And it appeared that Gaines was missing. He hadn't been seen around the saloon for a couple of days according to Charlie Lydecker, who seemed to have left town.

      Moore handed Purdy the key to the saloon, saying, "I think Lydecker sold it to me, but I'm not sure." He saluted Purdy again and wobbled away to sleep it off.

      "See, I told you he'd do a good job and get stinkin' drunk," Pike said with admiration.

      Purdy thought for a while. Then he said, "Even if they're bent on fighting each other, it's not to our advantage. If Nugent's Chinese win, then he'll be stronger than ever. If Amhearst's hired ruffians win, that'll be better for us in the short run, but eventually we'll have to go up against Amhearst."

      Beeme said, "The time to get 'em is when they're busy fighting each other."

      "That means the eight of us will be fighting more than twenty men counting both sides. And Nugent's men are already dug in. I don't like the odds." Purdy said.

      "Get Nugent first," Pike said. "Then they'll be no reason for the Chinks and Amhearst to fight."

      "It could be done." Purdy looked at the graying barrel-shaped Pike thoughtfully. "I've been through that wooded area behind his house before, and there's plenty of cover almost all the way to the house."

      "If we wait until dark, we can get right on top of them before they knew what hit them." Beeme suggested.

      Just then, they heard the wind-muffled sound of gunfire in the distance. It was the first sound of prolonged gunfire Purdy had heard since the war, and despite himself, he felt a chill that did not come from the snow and cold wind.

      "Time's already run out," he said. "Let's get up there. Remember, our goal isn't to kill Chinese or Amhearst's men. It's to get Nugent and Amhearst. And Gaines if he's alive, and Hopper."

      There, he said it. It was out. He wanted to kill them all, even Hopper, whom he sort of liked.

      He wondered if he could do it. Putting a bullet in a man and snuffing out his life was not something he could undertake lightly. It was something he's never been able to bring himself to do before. Not even during the war.

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