it.”
A crowd had gathered around the wagon, and at the news that the Devils had tried to steal the gold, only to fail, several people hurried off to spread the word. As Bo glanced down the street, he saw several men calling out the news to their friends. Obviously, it was a big day in Deadwood. This was the first time the Devils had gone after something and not gotten it.
Davenport stepped back into the bank while Bo and Scratch stood by with their Winchesters tucked under their arms, intent on not letting the precious stuff out of their sight until it was locked in the vault. Chloride watched over it, too.
A slight commotion down the street drew Bo’s attention. When he looked that way, he saw Martha Sutton hurrying toward the bank. She had her dress pulled up a little so she could move faster. Her blond curls bounced on her shoulders.
She was a little breathless when she came up to them and stopped. “You . . . you made it,” she said. “You really got here with the gold.”
Scratch tugged on the brim of his hat. “That’s what we said we’d do, miss,” he told her with a grin.
“I heard people talking about how the Devils tried to steal it. Is that true?”
“It’s true, but we convinced them not to,” Bo said with a smile of his own.
“You should’ve seen it,” Chloride put in. “It was a real battle royal!”
Bo shook his head. “I wouldn’t go quite that far. They tried to bushwhack us, and we discouraged them.”
“There’s no point in false modesty,” a new voice said. Bo looked around to see Lawrence Nicholson standing there, a pearl-gray bowler hat on his head and his hands stuck in his trouser pockets. The owner of the Argosy Mining Company went on. “You’ve done something that no one else has been capable of, gentlemen. You not only survived an attack by the Devils, but you also delivered the shipment of gold they wanted. A remarkable achievement, considering the events of the past few months. I’m beginning to think perhaps I was wrong not to hire you.”
“We’re happy workin’ for Miss Sutton,” Scratch said. “We intend to keep on doin’ it.”
Nicholson nodded. “I understand. I applaud such loyalty. I would point out, though, that the Argosy can afford to pay you more than the Golden Queen.” He smiled at Martha. “No offense, my dear.”
Despite that, she looked a mite offended anyway, Bo thought. But she just said, “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t try to steal my employees away from me, Mr. Nicholson.”
He laughed. “Of course. Congratulations on getting your shipment through.” He nodded to Bo, Scratch, and Chloride. “And congratulations to you three on surviving your encounter with the Deadwood Devils.”
As Nicholson moved on down the street, Chloride muttered, “You notice he didn’t say nothin’ about bein’ wrong to fire
“He was thinkin’ it,” Scratch assured the old-timer.
Several of Davenport’s clerks emerged from the bank to begin the task of unloading the gold. Bo followed the clerks inside and watched them place the crates full of gold bars into the vault while Scratch and Chloride stayed outside to keep an eye on the wagon. It didn’t take long to get everything unloaded, including the bags of gold dust in the compartment under the seat. Davenport wrote out a receipt and gave it to Martha.
“There you are, Miss Sutton,” he said. “I assume you’ll want some of the funds added to your drawing account?”
“That’s right,” she said. “I’m going to stock up on supplies for my workers and send them back out to the mine with the wagon.”
While they were making those arrangements, Chloride eyed the saloons on the eastern end of the settlement, in the area sometimes known as the Badlands. The fire the year before had wiped out a number of those establishments, but they had been rebuilt. Chloride licked his lips and said, “I could sure use a drink to warm me up. The sun may be shinin’, but it’s still a pretty chilly day.”
“I was thinking more about getting something to eat,” Bo said with a nod toward the Red Top Cafe.
“That ain’t a bad idea,” Scratch agreed. “I got somethin’ on my mind I need to ask Miz Pendleton about.”
Bo looked over at his old friend. “You’re not thinking about marriage again, are you? I know the idea crops up every time you meet a pretty widow—”
“Especially a pretty widow who can cook,” Scratch said with a grin. “But naw, I reckon I know by now I ain’t ever gonna settle down. I’ve got a question for the lady anyhow.”
“All right, but don’t be surprised if she slaps your face.”
“It ain’t that kind of question,” Scratch said. “Chloride, you comin’ along?”
The old-timer sighed. “I reckon so. Coffee don’t cut the trail dust as well as a shot of red-eye, but it don’t muddle the mind as much, neither.”
Bo told Martha Sutton they would see her later, then the three men walked down the street to the cafe.
Sue Beth didn’t look surprised to see them when they walked in. As they came up to the counter, she said, “I’ve been hearing all about your exploits. I guess I should have let you pay for those meals a couple of nights ago after all. I just thought that I’d never see you again.”
Bo reached for his pocket. “I can pay you now—” he offered.
“Don’t you dare!” Sue Beth said with a smile. “Next time, though, I’ll have a little more faith in you.” She paused. “I assume there
“You mean, are we gonna bring in another shipment from the Golden Queen?” Scratch asked. He nodded. “I reckon we will, just as soon as we can manage it.”
Sue Beth shook her head. “Amazing.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, what can I do for the
