and shuddered. “I saw him get hit. I saw the tip pierce his socket and burst out the back of his head. And then I rode like a madman up the canyon and out the far end. I didn’t stop until I’d left those red demons far behind.”
“Too bad,” Fargo said.
“What?” Gore looked at him, and laughed. “Oh. Too bad I got away? But I did, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the vein. I had seen enough to realize a fortune in gold was there for the taking. But I had also seen my friend die and I wasn’t hankering to share his fate.”
“You were afraid to come back.”
Gore colored slightly. “To my shame, yes. I was afraid. When our trapping company was disbanded, I went east. I tried to forget about the gold but it proved impossible. The memory ate at me like a cancer. Some nights it was so bad, I’d break out in a sweat.” He paused and said softly. “All these years.”
“What finally gave you the courage to do it?”
“I looked in the mirror one day and realized I wasn’t getting any younger. I’d wasted my life at a common job when I could have lived a life of ease. Right then I made up my mind to do what I should have done long ago.”
“And here you are.”
“Yes. But I nearly starved crossing the prairie. And when I reached the mountains, I lost my way a couple of times. Finally I reached Fort Bridger, and that’s when everything fell into place.”
“How?” Fargo asked when Gore didn’t go on.
“I ran into Rinson and his men. They would kill their own mothers if there was money to be made. With their help, I realized I could get in and out of Nez Perce country. But it meant sharing the gold. I was reluctant to do that at first. Then the Winston party showed up, and I took it as an omen.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“I needed a way to transport the gold. I didn’t have the money to buy enough pack animals.” Gore grinned. “Their wagons will do quite nicely, don’t you think?”
“You son of a bitch.”
“All my talk about the valley was for the purpose of luring them here. And they fell for it, the gullible fools. As soon as the vein is picked clean, we’ll load the ore on the wagons and be on our way. Simple, eh?”
“And the farmers? What about them?”
“Why, they will be wiped out by the Nez Perce, of course.” Gore winked. “Even if the Nez Perce don’t do the actual wiping.”
“You have it all worked out.”
“Don’t I, though?” Gore laughed. “The only loose end was you, and now I have you tied up.” He laughed louder.
Fargo had to think of something and he had to think of it fast. At any moment Gore could decide to put that bullet in his brain. He still had the Arkansas toothpick in his boot, but it would take time to work the rope loose enough to get at it. Time he didn’t have. So he did the only thing he could think of. “All this trouble you’ve gone to, and all for nothing.”
“Eh?” Victor Gore tilted his head. “What are you talking about?”
“The Nez Perce.”
“What about them?”
“A war party spotted me about a mile from here. I was running from them when I came across this canyon.”
“You’re lying.”
Fargo shrugged. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He gazed up at the high canyon walls. “They could be looking down on us even now.”
“You’re lying, I say.”
“I call it fitting that you come back after all these years only to end up like your friend.”
Victor Gore stood. Nervously fingering his derringer, he called out, “Mr. Stern, get over here.”
Stern came on the run. “What is it?”
“When you were up on the rim did you see any sign of the Nez Perce? Any sign at all?”
“Don’t you reckon I’d have told you if I did?”
Gore swung on him, balling his free hand into a fist. “Don’t take that tone with me. Did you or didn’t you?”
“Hell, no,” Stern said. “But I wasn’t really looking. I had my eyes on him.” Stern jerked a thumb at Fargo.
“I want you to take Larson and go back up. Scour the countryside for sign of the hostiles. And be thorough.” Gore glared at Fargo as Stern ran off. “God help you if this is a trick. I’ll have Slag stake you out and we’ll sit around and watch Perkins go to work on you with his knife. He’s vicious, that one. He likes to cut and carve on people.”
Fargo didn’t respond. His bluff had bought him precious minutes of life and now he had to make the most of them. But what could he do with Gore and the others right there? The ring of picks was continuous. “There’s something else you’ve overlooked.”
“Make it good,” Gore said skeptically.
“You were right about the army. They did send me. And when I don’t report back, patrols will be sent to look for me.”
“They won’t have troops come this far in. It would provoke a war.”
“Keep thinking that,” Fargo said. “I’ll visit you in the stockade.”
Gore drew back a leg as if to kick him but lowered it again. “My interest in you is wearing thin. Were I you, I’d keep quiet.”
Fargo took the advice. He’d planted seeds of doubt. Now he must get free. If they let him live until dark, he stood a chance of cutting himself loose. But that was a big “if.”
Only a few minutes went by when Stern and Larson came sprinting back around the bend. Stern let out a yell that brought the work to a stop as everyone gathered around to hear what he had to say.
“Smoke! We saw smoke!”
“Calm down,” Gore snapped. “Where did you see it? From the direction of the valley?”
“No. North of us, not south. It’s not the settlers.”
“Injuns,” someone said. “We’re in for it now.”
Most started to talk all at once and Gore silenced them with an angry roar. “A man can’t think with all this damn jabbering!” He rubbed his white hair, thinking. “Indians wouldn’t make camp this early. For that matter, whites wouldn’t, either.”
“A village, maybe,” Rinson said.
“Lordy, I hope not,” Larson said. “If they find us, we’ll be up to our ears in redskins.”
“Stay calm,” Gore stressed. “It could be an army patrol. Fargo, here, might be working with them. The only sure way to find out is to go see. Mr. Rinson, take Perkins and Slag and do just that.”
“Why us?” Perkins said. “Why not Stern or Larson or some of the others?”
“Because I picked you,” Victor Gore said ominously. “And I don’t like being challenged.”
Slag said, “I don’t mind going. It beats digging out ore.”
They ignored Fargo. He tried working his wrists back and forth to create slack but the rope was too tight. Arching his back, he slid his hands to his boots and pried at the knots. They wouldn’t give. He was so intent on freeing himself that he didn’t hear someone come over. But he saw the shadow that fell across him and felt excruciating pain in his ribs.
“What did I tell you?” Victor Gore said. “I should kill you where you lie but I might have need of you.”
Grimacing, Fargo spat out, “Oh?”
“On the off chance you were telling the truth. The army won’t dare do anything so long as I have you.”
“Use me as a hostage? It won’t work.”
“You place too little value on your hide. You’re a famous scout. They won’t want anything to happen to you.” Gore walked off.
Fargo eased onto his other side to spare his aching ribs. He hated to admit it, but he was helpless. All he could do was lie there. The minutes dragged and became hours.
Gore hadn’t forgotten about him. Every so often, he glanced over.
