Frank watched the man out of the corner of his eye as he got the peaches and potatoes. He made no suspicious moves and sat back down and started peeling the potatoes.
Jess grinned and held up an onion. 'We'll slice this up and stick it with the taters. Gives 'em a good flavor.'
'Sure does. I forgot to get me some onions when I provisioned up last stop.'
'Frank, I ain't tryin' to meddle in your business. Believe me, I ain't. But are you by any chance headin' up toward Barnwell's Crossin'?'
Frank stopped his slicing of bacon to look at the man. 'I never heard of that place.'
'Well, it's called the Crossin', usually.'
'Still never heard of it. What about it?'
'There was a silver strike there 'bout three years ago. Big one. Millions of dollars was taken out of them mines. But it was short-lived. Mines are about played out now.'
'So? I've never mined for gold or silver.'
'Ned Pine and Vic Vanbergen drift in and out of there from time to time.'
That got Frank's attention. 'Well, I see. You know about the bad feeling between Ned and Vic and me, eh?'
'Yep. I was there that time you made Vic back down. I know he's swore to kill you. And so has Ned.'
'Those are old threats, Jess.'
'But still holdin' true, Frank. Point is, one of the big company mines hit another strike. Got tons of damn near pure silver out and melted down. They're waitin' to transport the bars out. And the Pine and Vanbergen gangs are waitin' for them to try it.'
'Why don't they hire some people to guard the shipment?'
'Don't nobody want the job. Ned and Vic done passed the word.'
'I still don't see what that has to do with me, Jess.'
'Well, I'll tell you. The minin' company is the Henson Mine Corporation. It's owned by Mrs. Vivian Browning. Old man Henson's daughter.'
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*Four*
The next morning, Jess headed south and Frank headed north, toward Barnwell's Crossing. When Frank questioned the older man, Jess told him he had learned about Frank's marriage years back, from a pal of his who had worked for a man in Denver who knew Henson. Henson, Jess said, had not been well-liked. He was ruthless in his business dealings, and few had mourned his passing some years back.
Jess had told him that Barnwell's Crossing was a dying town, although it still had a couple of hundred people eking out a living there. The silver was just about all played out.
Frank didn't know how he would handle matters once he got to the Crossing. He sure didn't know how he would react if he came face-to-face with Vivian. He wondered if Vivian had told her husband about him.
Probably. Frank felt that a marriage built on a lie would not last.
Jess had given him directions on how to get to Barnwell's Crossing. After listening to the twisted route, Frank had commented that it sure seemed to be in a very isolated section of the territory ... not in an area that he was at all familiar with.
'Wait until you get there,' Jess had said. 'You'll think you've fallen off the earth into hell.'
'That bad, eh?'
'Worser. One way in, one way out'
'A perfect setting for Pine and Vanbergen.'
'You betcha.'
After a week of hard riding after leaving the company of Jess McCready, Frank reached a narrow, twisty road that led off into the mountains. Miles later, at a crossroads, he saw a crossing sign. A crudely painted arrow pointed off toward the west. The road was literally cut out of the mountains in some spots, and some of the drop- offs were hundreds of feet, straight down.
Frank remembered some long-ago campfire talk about the town as he rode. He had forgotten it until now. The town had been established some thirty-five years back.
Frank couldn't recall the original name. The Apaches had raided the tiny town and burned it to the ground. It had been rebuilt, and the Apaches had raided and burned it once more. It had sprung to life again, Frank guessed, when silver had been found.
Frank had no idea where the name Barnwell came from, unless it belonged to the man who hit the latest strike of silver.
After he rode for several miles on the twisty road the town came into view. A dozen or so stores had not been closed and boarded up: a hotel, a large general store, a saloon, a doctor's office, a barbershop/undertaker's, a livery, and several other false-front stores. On all sides of the town the hillsides were dotted with mine entrances and narrow roads, all leading down to the town and the mill. Frank stared at the mill for a moment. It was still operating.
Frank rode into town, looking at the homes on either side as he rode. Some were very nice. Others were no more than shacks, thrown together. There were tents of varying sizes scattered among the houses and
