Taggart (1959) (14 page)

For an instant the two men stared at each other, and then, Stark relaxed slowly.

"Found me," he said. "Well, you've done some mining."

Taggart walked past him, looking up at the tower. His mouth felt dry and he was breakin
g
out in a cold sweat. The very idea of going into that notch under the tower sen
t
a chill through every fiber of his body.

"You're crazy," he said flatly. "Stark, any man who would work in a place like tha
t
has got to be crazy."

"The gold is there."

Taggart turned and looked at him. "You don't want gold that bad. Nobody does, nobod
y
in his right mind."

Adam took out his pipe and began to fill it. "A matter of viewpoint, Taggart. Ho
w
bad does a man want anything? I guess it all depends on the man, and what he want
s
and why. I know what I'm doing. I know what my chances are. I know that in that gol
d
there's a ranch, there's cattle, there's comfort for my wife. There's a trip fo
r
her ... to San Francisco. Maybe even to Europe."

"And you can die in there." "That's right."

They were silent. Adam Stark lighted his pipe. In the morning light his face looke
d
drawn and gray, and Taggart could appreciate the strain he must be under, workin
g
in such a place.

"That's why you've kept the girls away."

"That's why." Stark squatted on his heels, his eyes searching the country around
,
from old habit. "Look, Taggart, two weeks more in there, and I'll have it made."

"Two weeks?"

"The stuff is richer now than it ever was. Look." Stark took a chunk of ore fro
m
the sack. "Just look at that."

"I-" Swante Taggart swallowed his words. The ore was jewelry store rock, the kin
d
a man hears about all his life an
d
rarely, if ever, sees. It was heavy, so heavy that the weight of it startled him
,
and he was used to gold. The rock was seamed with streaks of gold, not the hairlik
e
threads in some ore, but bands of it. And the quartz was rotten. His fingers brok
e
off chunks of it and there was crumbling from the pressure of his fingers.

Swante Taggart was not a man who loved gold, but he knew the feeling. It could ge
t
into the blood, and once it did a man was lost. He had known men who devoted thei
r
entire lives to following the ghost of gold through desert and mountain, into al
l
the lost and remote places. He could appreciate the feeling, although he had lon
g
since come to realize there were some things not worth the cost. For him the yearnin
g
was for land, cattle, a place with water, trees, and grass.

But for gold like this there was little a man wouldn't do. Yet Adam Stark was no
t
really filled with gold lust, either, and was as well-balanced a man as Taggart ha
d
ever seen.

"Sure," Taggart said, "it's rich. I've never seen the like. But why, when the ris
k
is so great? All of that gold won't buy you six months of life, or even a day o
f
it."

"No." "Then it's the women?"

Adam nodded. "It's Connie. Not Miriam ... she's like I am or you are. She's a gir
l
who can make out, and she asks nothing of life she can't get. But Miriam's had
a
nice time behind her, something Connie's never had, and Connie has a restlessnes
s
in her. I think a spell of real living would cure her."

"You're wrong." Stark looked at him.

"She says that's what she wants," Taggart went on, "and she believes it. After
a
fashion I suppose she does, but what she really wants is to believe in you."

"That's up to her."

Swante Taggart indicated the rock by a jerk of his head. "You should let her se
e
that."

"No." "And you shouldn't let Shoyer see it."

"How about you?" Stark looked at him with a faint smile. "You've seen it."

"It's your gold, and anybody who would dig it out of there is entitled to it. Bu
t
if I were you," Taggart grinned, "I'd even watch me. A man with that kind of gol
d
can't afford to trust anyone."

The morning sun warmed the mountainside. In the far distance the Four Peaks los
t
themselves against the sky. Below, the mountain fell away toward the Salt River
,
scarcely a mile away.

"Why don't you tell her that you killed Sanifer?" Stark stared at him. "You hear
d
of that?"

"She'd like you for it."

"Maybe ... and she might hate me. She's made a big thing of him in her mind." Star
k
lit his pipe again. "Nothing much to him, really. A flashy big man with an easy wa
y
of talking, but no sand ... no bottom to the man, not when the showdown came."

He paused and a slow minute passed. "He wouldn't fight me. He backed down cold whe
n
I braced him in the saloon, and then when I started to leave, he tried to dry-gulc
h
me." "She'll hear of it."

"I'd rather not." Stark got up and knocked out his pipe. Suddenly he no longer fel
t
like smoking. "There's things she has to learn for herself. If she doesn't lear
n
them, there's nothing more to be said."

The air was clear following the storm. Silence lay like a blessing upon the lan
d
and the warm sun burned off the last of the night's chill. High overhead an eagl
e
cried and sunlight sparkled on the waters of the Salt. The Apaches came out of
a
draw on the north side of the river and walked their horses through the sparse growt
h
toward the river bank. There were at least thirty of them and they had several extr
a
horses. They drew up at the river bank and looked the country over. Taggart sat ver
y
still, hearing his heart pound. He knew that Stark saw them, too.

If they rode into the water and along the westernmost arm o
f
Horseshoe Bend they would emerge from the river where the dim trail led up Mud Spring
s
Wash between Rockinstraw Mountain and the canyon of the chapel. If Miriam had gon
e
from the canyon to the top of Rockinstraw this morning, they would find her tracks.

"It's a one-man job," Taggart said. "I'll circle around and get on the mountain nea
r
the canyon. I can see them, and I'll know if they find her tracks."

"One against thirty?"

"One man can do as much as two in this case. If both of us got it, that would leav
e
the girls with Shoyer ... or the Apaches."

Taggart went over back of the slope and as soon as he was below the crest, he starte
d
to run. He ran lightly and easily. If the Apaches followed the route, he though
t
they would have a little less distance to go than he himself.

He ran easily, with long, steady strides. The slope was steep and rocky, but a barel
y
discernible game trail skirted the hill well below the crest. Slowing down to cros
s
a wash, he got a glimpse of the Apaches as they rode down the river, keeping to th
e
edge of the water. He turned up a canyon that led south and came out of it to clim
b
the mountain near the canyon.

From the mountainside above the canyon, overlooking the trail up Mud Springs Wash
,
Swante Taggart had a good field of fire. Squatting on his heels behind a juniper
,
he watched the Indians, still some distance off.

They were moving slowly and studying the bank, obviously searching for indication
s
of a crossing. Taggart had deduced from the dried blood on Shoyer's shirt that ther
e
had been a battle ... and now the Indians were out in force to hunt the hunter.

From where he crouched he could see into the canyon; the spring and its pool wer
e
visible, and one shoulder of the old chapel. As he watched, Miriam came into sight
,
and picking up a rock, he tossed it into the pool. She turned quickly and looke
d
up.

He indicated the canyon mouth and flashed his ten fingers a
t
her three times. Instantly, Miriam turned and ran for the house.

Whatever else he might be, Shoyer was a fighting man and good to have along at thi
s
time, for Taggart had a hunch the Indians were not going to pass on.

When the Apaches rode up to Mud Springs they were stretched out for a hundred yard
s
or more, but at the springs they dismounted and scattered out, searching for indication
s
that the spring had lately been used.

It was one place that was carefully avoided by all at the canyon of the chapel ...
b
ut what about Shoyer? Had he stopped there? And if he had, had the rain washed ou
t
all traces?

From his position on the slope of the hill, Taggart could cover the approach to th
e
mouth of the canyon, but he could not see what was happening inside the mouth wher
e
Shoyer or one of the girls was sure to be waiting.

The edge of the canyon at this point was broken by several deep cracks, and slab
s
of rock lay scattered in profusion. Mingled among them were juniper and prickly pear
,
and the position allowed some movement under concealment.

One by one the Apaches drifted back to Mud Springs, evidence enough that they ha
d
found no tracks. If one of the girls had gone to the mountain this morning they mus
t
certainly have left some indication, so evidently Consuelo as well as Miriam wa
s
in the canyon.

The Apaches were making camp now, but several of them mounted and rode off, obviousl
y
scouting for Shoyer. It was very early, far too early for an Apache to camp unles
s
there was reason for remaining in the vicinity ... and this was a war party. Withou
t
doubt they had reason to believe him in the vicinity, and remembering how many track
s
there must be on top of Rockinstraw, Taggart prayed they would not climb the lookou
t
mountain.

He built a cigarette, continuing to watch the Indians. There would be a fight, h
e
was sure of that. Somehow they would find the canyon, or signs of the presence o
f
some of the party
,
and then there would be some shooting. He had seen Apaches fight before, and he ha
d
fought them, just as he had fought Kiowas, Comanches, Sioux, and Modocs. He remembere
d
the smoky smell of their bodies, the swiftness with which they could run, the suddennes
s
with which they could disappear. With Apaches a man had to shoot first and thin
k
later.

With a kind of sour respect, he watched them make their search. There seemed nothin
g
methodical about it, and yet he knew nothing could have been more thorough. Onl
y
the rain had saved them thus far.

By now Adam Stark would probably have returned to the canyon and would be ready fo
r
trouble. And Shoyer was there. Three men and two women, and their position was good
,
but he knew that he would not give much for their chances at this moment. If he ha
d
been elsewhere and had been asked how long three men and two women could surviv
e
against thirty Apaches, he would have shrugged it off as scarcely worthy of comment.

Being here made it different ... not that their chances were any greater, but tha
t
it was their own problem, and it had to be dealt with. He studied what chances the
y
might have. First they could hope they were not discovered, and then, being discovered
,
they could fight with the idea of taking as many Apaches with them as possible.