From the hollow sound of Smith’s voice, Frank knew that was unlikely.
“Go on back to Clancy’s. I don’t expect to see you again.”
Smith stalked off without a word. As soon as he was gone, Conway hurried across the street, along with Jennings and Dog.
“What the hell happened?” Conway wanted to know. “How come you marched Smith over here at gunpoint?”
“He did something that bothered me,” Frank said. “He suggested that I partner up with him so we could put the ladies to work as soiled doves.”
“You mean he wanted to turn Jessica into—” Conway’s hands tightened on his rifle. “I ought to go down to that saloon and—”
“It’s already taken care of.” Quickly, Frank related the highlights of the conversation in Clancy’s and its outcome.
Jennings said, “Do you really think he’ll return the old man’s gold and leave us alone?”
“That would be the smart thing to do. We’re not trying to drive him out of power here in Skagway. He can go on fleecing the citizens until they decide they’ve had enough of him…or he can try to stop us from leaving and wind up with a war on his hands. So tell me, Bart…how smart is he?”
“He’s smart, all right,” Jennings said, “smart as he is crooked. But he’s loco, too, and he may lean more on his pride than his brain when he goes to makin’ up his mind what to do.”
“In that case,” Frank said with a slight smile, “we may have to fight our way out of here.”
Now that Smith knew Salty was one of Frank’s allies, Frank didn’t think it was safe for the old-timer to stay at the shack alone. He sent Conway to fetch him and left Dog at the stable to guard the horses. Then he called the women together in the hotel to explain the situation to them.
“Why, that…that scoundrel!” Fiona exclaimed when she heard what Smith had proposed to do. “You should have shot him, Frank!”
“I thought about it,” Frank admitted wryly. “I figured that might just shake things up even worse, though. At least Smith has some control over what happens around here. If he was dead, all hell might break loose. The important thing is that we get out of Skagway and get started toward Whitehorse as soon as possible. Until we do, I want all of you to be alert. Keep your guns handy, and don’t be afraid to use them.”
Meg pushed her blond hair back off her forehead. “We should set up some sort of schedule for standing guard, and maybe we should all be in the same room.”
Frank nodded and said, “I was thinking the same thing. It’ll be crowded, but at least you can keep an eye on each other that way.”
“What are you going to do?” Fiona asked.
“As soon as Conway gets back with Salty, we’re going to start getting ready to leave early tomorrow morning. I want to line up our dogs and sleds and supplies today, if I can.”
“We have to go by dogsled?” Marie asked.
“Part of the way, according to Salty. We’ll take the horses as far as we can.” Frank paused. “It’ll be a rough trip, make no mistake about that. But we’ll get through, and once we get to Whitehorse, you’ll have your new husbands to rely on. It’ll be all right.”
They seemed to take some comfort from his encouraging words, but a sense of worry still hung over the group. Frank understood that well enough. He was worried himself.
He became more so when he stepped outside and saw that the leaden sky had started spitting down snowflakes. The snow was falling only lightly now, but as he gazed up at the clouds, he had a hunch it was going to get worse. If a blizzard blew in tonight, they might not be able to take the horses at all and would have to leave Skagway by dogsled.
They had come too far to turn back now, he told himself, and besides, with Soapy Smith as an enemy, it wouldn’t be safe to try to spend the winter in Skagway. They had to make the run to Whitehorse.
Conway came along a few minutes later with Salty Stevens. The old-timer said to Frank, “The young fella tells me you had a big fallin’-out with Soapy on account o’ me.”
“That wasn’t all of it, by any means,” Frank said.
“Well, no matter what caused it, you don’t want to hang around Skagway if Soapy’s got blood in his eye for ye.”
“That’s why I want us to leave as soon as we can. First thing tomorrow morning, if possible.”
Salty cast an eye toward the sky. “With this snow fallin’, that’s a good idea. Come on. I’ll take you to see a feller who’s got some dogs.”
They were going to need at least four sleds and teams, according to Salty. The sleds wouldn’t be a problem, as there were still plenty to be had in the settlement. Coming up with twenty-four good dogs would be.
“Most folks use huskies or malamutes,” Salty told Frank, Conway, and Jennings. “You may have to settle for mostly mutts, though.”
“As long as they can pull the sleds,” Frank said, “that’s all that matters.”
“Oh, they’ll be able to pull, but they won’t have the stamina or the experience a good team would. We’ll have to teach ’em and toughen ’em up as we go along.”
The man Salty took them to see had such a thick Swedish accent Frank understood only about half of what he had to say. Salty could converse with him, though, and after some haggling, they went behind the man’s cabin to look into a long kennel made of posts and wire. A couple of dozen dogs were behind the fence. They were all big and shaggy and looked strong enough to Frank, but Salty shook his head in dismay. “This is the best we can do,” he told Frank, “but it ain’t good.”
