man’s office himself.
“Where’d they go?” Stattler asked him.
“They went into the cafe across the street, sir.”
“Did you stand outside the door and listen, Peter?”
“Yes, sir,” said Lieutenant Peter Masters, who acted as Stattler’s personal assistant. “What are you going to do, sir?”
“We can’t be at all sure they’re wrong,” Stattler said. “I mean, the boy’s an obvious amateur.”
“And the older man?”
“Not an amateur,” the chief said, “but not a lawman. He seems familiar to me, as well.”
“What shall we do, sir?”
“I want six men posted at the main branch of the Bank of Denver,” Stattler said.
“Just that one branch, sir?”
“That’s right,” Stattler said, “and I want them heavily armed.”
“What if they’re right and the bank is hit by a dozen bank robbers, sir?”
“Six of my men should be able to handle a gang like that, Masters, don’t you think?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“Especially,” Stattler added, “if they’re commanded by you.”
Lieutenant Masters squared his shoulders and said, “Yes, sir!”
“You choose the men,” the chief said, “and have them in place by tomorrow afternoon.”
“What if they hit one of the other branches, sir?”
“If this Cardwell is who I think he is, he’ll hit the bank with the largest amount of deposits. I feel fairly safe in predicting that, Masters…don’t you agree?”
The young lieutenant, who would never dream of disagreeing with his boss, said, “Yes, sir!”
“See to it, then.”
Masters left, and Stattler sat back in his chair. He’d heard of Ben Cardwell, knew the man was a bank robber. If the deputy and his friend had not presented him with Cardwell’s name, he would have put them down as alarmists. However, the fact that they had Cardwell’s name led him to believe there was some credence to their story.
Of course, if they were wrong and he made a fool of himself by placing his men there, they’d live to regret it.
68
Thomas and Cory came out of the telegraph office with Thomas shaking his head.
“Why would he do that?” he asked. “Why would he leave town? Get on a horse with a wound like the one he has?”
“He was worried about you boys,” Cory said. “That’s why he did it.”
“So now he’s out there somewhere, maybe bleedin’.”
“Your pa knows what he’s doin’.”
“I used to think so.”
“What?”
Thomas was startled to realize he had said that out loud.
“Ever since Ma was killed, and Matthew, he’s been different,” he said. Since he’d gone ahead and started, he figured he might as well finish. “Not the same man, you know? Not as sure…not the same…father.”
“You and your pa have to talk, Thomas,” Cory said. “I mean, really talk.”
“I know,” Thomas said. “I think we’ve both known, but neither one of us has wanted to start.”
“Well,” Cory said, “somebody has to.”
“You’re right,” Thomas said, “but after this is all over.”
They started walking away from the telegraph office. The telegram from Ron Hill was in Thomas’s pocket. He was not only surprised that his father had left Vengeance Creek, but that he had left it in the hands of Ron Hill.
“What do you think of my idea?” Cory asked.
“I think it’s the only way for us to go,” Thomas said. “It makes sense to me, especially when you said we had to consider who we were dealin’ with.”
“Right,” Cory said. “A man who has never treated anyone fairly, a man who has probably double-crossed everyone who ever trusted him.”
“It’s a surprise somebody hasn’t killed him by now,” Thomas said.
“Well, with a little luck,” Ralph Cory said, “maybe we can change that.”
Thomas and Cory had each taken their own room, and that night they sat on the bed, cleaning their weapons, alone with their thoughts.
Thomas wondered where James was, and where his father was. He wondered what tomorrow or the next day would bring. He wondered if, when all was said and done, he’d actually be able to talk to his father—and have his father talk to him—so they could put aside the barrier that had been between them for the past year.
Ralph Cory wondered if Bloody Dave Macky was really gone for good. Had he ever been gone at all? With all the names he’d chosen to live under, was Ralph Cory the one that was going to stick? Or, after these weeks on the trail—back on the hunt—would he be able to go back to working in a store, or could he go back to being Dave Macky—not Bloody Dave, but just plain Dave?
While Thomas and Cory cleaned their guns and searched their minds—or their souls—Ben Cardwell led his men into Denver, after a long day’s ride from Colorado Springs.
He reined his horse in and turned in his saddle to look at the rabble behind him. They stopped, except for Dolan, who rode up on him and waited for orders.
“Tell them to spread out and get lodgings for the night,” Cardwell said, “and only for one night. We’ll be leaving right after we hit the bank.”
“Right.”
“Tell them not to stay anywhere in more than twos,” Cardwell went on. “I don’t want anyone rememberin’ us. Understand?”
“I understand.”
“All right,” Cardwell said.
“What about the bank?” Dolan asked. “Can you tell us where it is?”
“Sure I can,” Cardwell said. “After waitin’ this long, I remember exactly where it is.” He gave Dolan the intersection where the largest of the Bank of Denver branches was located.
“So do we meet there?”
Cardwell nodded. “Right in front. At noon.”
“We’ll attract attention that way, for sure.”
“We’ll have the element of surprise on our side,” Cardwell said. “You boys dismount, five of you come inside, six of you cover the street, watch for the law.”
“And where will you be?”
“I’ll already be inside the bank, waitin’ for you,” Cardwell said. “I’ll already be there. You boys come in with your guns out, and we’ll clean the bank out.”
“Right.” Dolan put just the right amount of enthusiasm in that one word.
Cardwell leaned over, put his hand on Dolan’s shoulder and said, “This will be the biggest haul any of us has ever seen.”
“Sounds good to me, Mr. Cardwell.”
“Get the boys bedded down, Dolan,” Cardwell said, “and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
He watched as Dolan rode back to the others, gave them their instructions, and then rode off with them. He hoped they’d split up before long or else they’d attract too much attention. He just needed them to stay out of trouble until tomorrow, and then the hell with them. They’d be on their own, and so would he—with more money than he could spend in one lifetime.
