he said, “It sounds to me like you fellows were mighty lucky not to wind up with pitchforks carved on your foreheads.”
“I thought the same thing,” Chloride said.
“I have to admit, I’m a little surprised the Argosy got hit,” Keefer went on. “I was beginning to think the Devils wouldn’t go after it. But I suppose it was just a matter of time.”
“Maybe,” Bo said, but he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he continued. “We’re hoping we’ll have another crack at the varmints.”
Keefer leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands together on the desk. “Wait just a blessed minute,” he said. “You’re not telling me that you plan to use our gold wagon as bait for a trap, are you? I won’t stand for that.”
Bo shook his head. “No, sir. That’s not what I meant. Scratch and Chloride and I will do our dead-level best to get Miss Sutton’s gold to town, just like we signed on to do. But considering how many times the shipments from the Golden Queen have been hit already, it seems likely the Devils will come after us again. Maybe not on this run, but sooner or later they will.”
“And when they do, we’re gonna give ’em a hot lead welcome, you can count on that,” Scratch added.
“I see what you mean,” Keefer said, slowly nodding. “But what makes you think the three of you can stop the Devils from stealing the gold when nobody else has been able to?”
Scratch grinned and said, “We stopped ol’ Santa Anna from runnin’ roughshod over Texas, and the odds were against us and the rest of Sam Houston’s boys. I reckon we can handle a bunch of no-account owlhoots.”
Keefer grunted. “There’s a difference. You Texas lads caught the Mexicans sleeping, as I recall. The Devils of Deadwood Gulch will be ready for trouble. They’ll be bringing it with them, in fact.”
“We’ll just have to get the jump on them somehow,” Bo said. “In the meantime, Miss Sutton seemed to think you’d have enough gold on hand to make up a shipment right away.”
Keefer nodded. “That’s true. I have a few bags of dust in the safe, and we’ve milled enough ore to make up two loads. Better not try to get it all to town at once, though. I don’t want to risk everything.”
“That’s good. One wagon at a time is plenty. Maybe you can get the shipment loaded this afternoon, and we can start for Deadwood first thing in the morning.”
“Sounds fine to me,” Keefer said. He stood up and extended his hand to each of them in turn. “There are a few empty bunks in the bunkhouse, and you’ll eat in the mess hall with the rest of the men. Welcome to the Golden Queen. We’re glad to have you with us, gentlemen . . .” He paused and added pointedly, “Even though it might not be for very long, if those blasted Devils have anything to say about it!”
Chloride was in his element here. He supervised the loading of the gold wagon during the afternoon. The raw ore had already been run through the stamp mill to break it up and then processed with mercury to free the gold from the quartz in which it was embedded. The resulting ore, even though it would be refined more later on, was mostly gold and was formed into rough bars by melting and casting it. Workers at the mine stacked those bars into crates, and then the crates were loaded into the wagon. The heavy canvas bags of gold dust from the placer operation were stowed away in a locked compartment under the wagon seat.
Keefer picked some of his most trustworthy men to stand guard over the wagon during the night. Everyone who worked at the Golden Queen was pretty reliable, he explained to the Texans and Chloride, otherwise they would have deserted Martha Sutton, but a wagon full of gold was a tempting thing even for the most honest man.
Bo agreed, and for that reason he and Scratch took turns checking on the wagon from time to time during the night. They got plenty of sleep, though—the mine’s bunkhouse was as comfortable as the bunkhouses they had stayed in on numerous ranches—and were rested and ready to go the next morning after a hearty breakfast in the mess hall.
Chloride hitched up the team himself, checking every bit of harness. “Worn leather’s fouled up many a man in times of trouble,” he explained.
Bo and Scratch saddled their horses. Instead of riding in the wagon, they would be mounted so they could move quicker if the need arose. They were armed with their usual weapons, and they borrowed a couple of shotguns from the rack in Keefer’s office and placed them in the wagon.
When the wagon was ready to roll, Keefer came outside to say so long. A number of the miners had emerged from the shaft and the mill to watch, too. Their livelihoods were riding on that wagon. If Bo, Scratch, and Chloride could get the gold safely into the bank in Deadwood, eventually some of the value from it would find its way back to the miners in the form of the wages they were owed. That was everybody’s hope, anyway.
Chloride climbed onto the wagon seat and grasped the reins. Bo and Scratch swung up into their saddles. Resting a hand on one of the front wheels, Keefer said, “Good luck be with you, men.” He added, “It’s not too late to send a couple of fellows with you as extra guards.”
Bo shook his head. “No offense, Mr. Keefer, but then we’d have to look out for them, too, as well as the gold. And from the looks of it, your crew here is a mite thin. You probably need every man you’ve got just to keep the operation going.”
“That’s true,” Keefer said with a nod. “Some of the men quit when Miss Sutton starting having trouble paying them. Can’t blame them, really, but it’s left us shorthanded.”
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Bo said as he lifted his reins.
“Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise,” Scratch added with a smile.
“It’s not the creek I’m worried about,” Keefer said as he stepped back and raised a hand in farewell. Chloride slapped the lines against the backs of the team, and with the rattle of bit chains and the creaking of wheels, the wagon lurched into motion. Bo and Scratch returned Keefer’s wave and rode after the vehicle. Their Winchesters rested across the saddles in front of them, rather than in the sheaths strapped to the horses. If they needed the rifles, chances were they would need them in a hurry.
Bo and Scratch split up and flanked the wagon. The trail was wide enough for this escort arrangement in many places, although at times they would have to ride one in front and one behind the wagon where the path narrowed down.
“I hope you fellas are plannin’ on keepin’ your eyes open,” Chloride said as they left the Golden Queen behind them. “Our best chance of gettin’ through alive is if you spot them Devils before they open fire on us.”
