“You figured wrong,” Meg shot back at him without hesitation.
“Didn’t you hear what I was telling Salty about how hard the trip might be?”
“We were all going to Mexico together. That’s still the plan as far as I’m concerned. This is just a little … side trip, I guess you could say.”
Crossing the Canadian Rockies, even in summer, was likely to be more than a little side trip, Frank thought. But he had to admit it probably wouldn’t be as bad as traveling from Skagway over Chilkoot Pass to Whitehorse with winter coming on, and Meg had survived that. She was a good rider, could handle a gun, and certainly wasn’t lacking for courage.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have her along.
“All right,” he said as he nodded.
Salty stared at him. “Have you gone touched in the head? You want to bring a gal along while we’re chasin’ a owlhoot like Palmer acrost Canada?”
“Meg can take care of herself,” Frank said. “And she probably won’t go sneaking off and get mixed up in a gunfight.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Salty muttered. “I done said I was sorry.”
“It’s settled, then,” Meg said. “Tomorrow morning we head east toward Calgary and try to pick up Palmer’s trail.”
“Providing we can find some decent horses,” Frank said. “That might not be as easy as it sounds.”
Chapter 5
Captain Beswick intended to sail early the next morning, so Frank was up at first light to head into the settlement. He thought he had seen a livery stable the night before, while he and the party from the ship were headed toward Red Mike’s, and he wanted to find out if he was right.
As it turned out, he was. Parkhurst’s Livery dealt in saddle horses and pack animals for the fur trappers who made Powderkeg Bay their headquarters. The proprietor, a white-haired man with the bulbous red nose of a heavy drinker, was glad to sell Frank three mounts and a couple of pack mules.
The horses weren’t much for looks or speed, but they were sturdy animals that ought to stand up well to traveling over the mountains, Frank thought.
“You can ride the mules if you need to,” Parkhurst assured Frank. “They’ll take a saddle. Their gait’ll loosen your teeth, though, if you have to ride ‘em for very long.”
“We don’t intend to,” Frank said. “We’ll need saddles and the rest of the rigs, along with packs for the mules.”
Parkhurst nodded. “I can fix you up, Mr. Morgan.”
“What about a general store for supplies?”
“Right along the street here.” Parkhurst pointed. “Haney’s Emporium. Tell Todd Haney I sent you.”
The sun had just begun to peek over the mountains to the east by the time Frank had bought the supplies and loaded them on the mules. He left all five animals tied up in front of the store while he went back to the ship to let Salty and Meg know they were ready to ride out.
Both of them had their gear gathered. It didn’t amount to much, since they had been traveling light. Meg was wearing a holstered .32-caliber revolver and had a short-barreled Winchester carbine tucked under her arm. She looked as if she was ready for trouble.
And they were liable to find it, Frank mused. That was just the way things seemed to go where he was concerned.
Captain Beswick was waiting at the gangplank to bid them farewell. He shook hands with Frank and Salty and tipped his cap to Meg.
“Good luck to you,” the captain said. “To be honest, I think this is a bit of a fool’s errand you’re going on, but perhaps it will work out. I hope so.”
Salty said, “No offense, Cap’n, but it ain’t your money that’s involved. To my way of thinkin’, I’d be a fool not to go after Palmer and try to get it back.”
“If you get a chance, write to me in care of the shipping line. I’d like to hear how this all comes out.”
“We’ll do that,” Frank said with a nod.
When they reached the dock, Frank looked back at the ship and saw Handlesman and Monroe at the railing. He lifted a hand in farewell to the second mate and the sailor. Both of them had been helpful during the ruckus the night before.
No one had bothered the horses, the mules, or the supplies. Frank, Salty, and Meg swung up into their saddles. Captain Beswick had a map of Canada among the numerous maps in his cabin, and Frank had studied it. Calgary was approximately four hundred miles east and a little bit south of Powderkeg Bay. In mountainous country, it would take three weeks, possibly more, to get there.
Frank was confident that he could find the settlement. They might not follow exactly the same trails between here and there as Joe Palmer did, but on the other hand, there were a number of mountain ranges in their path and probably only a limited amount of routes through them. If Palmer wasn’t in too much of a hurry, they might be able to catch up to him before he reached Calgary.
Only one trail led out of Powderkeg Bay, winding up the side of the mountain that loomed above the town. When they had climbed quite some distance, Frank reined in and motioned for the others to do likewise.
“In terrain like this, we’ll have to stop pretty often to let the horses rest,” he told Salty and Meg as he
