Don laughed. “I don’t think that’s the kind of pretty women think of, when they think pretty.”
“What about your kids?” Beans asked. “Are they excited about Christmas?”
“Oh, yes. They’re wanting to see what Santa Claus will bring them.” Don chuckled. “I know one thing he better not bring them. Not if I want to stay on the good side of Doreen.”
“What’s that?”
“Donnie wants a drum. Ha! Can you see him running around the house, banging on a drum? Well, it wouldn’t bother me none. I mean when you stand here all day listenin’ to all the noise this makes. But it would more ’n like drive Doreen crazy. Now Little Suzie, all she wants is a doll. Girls are a lot easier than boys. They don’t seem to get into as much trouble. When you and your missus start havin’ children, try ’n make ’em all girls.”
“Ha!” Beans said. “Like you can choose.”
“I know a witch that’ll put a spell on your wife to make her have girls or boys. It only cost ten dollars.”
“And it works?”
“Sure it works. Anyhow, you can’t lose no money ’cause if she puts the hex on and it don’t work, then she don’t charge you nothin’.”
“Ha. Sounds to me like she’s got a real game goin’ there.”
“What do you mean? What kind of game?”
“If her hex works, she gets paid. If it doesn’t work, she doesn’t get paid. Is that what you said?”
“Yeah. So you can’t go wrong, that way.”
“Well, think about it, Don. All she’s doin’ is bettin’ that you’re goin’ to have a boy or a girl. Only she ain’t exactly bettin’, ’cause she don’t put up no money. She’s just collectin’ if she wins.”
Don stroked his jaw for a second as he considered what Beans said. “I’ll be damned.” He smiled as he suddenly realized the truth of it. “You’re right.”
In the next to the last car of the train, Parker and the other three men were finalizing their plans.
“Remember”—Parker gave instructions once more—“make your move as soon as I get the train stopped.”
“Yeah,” Kelly said. “More ’n likely, Proxmire and ever’one else on the train will be tryin’ to figure out why we’re stopped.”
“You can get the train stopped, can’t you?” Morris asked.
“Yeah, don’t you worry about that. I’ll get the train stopped all right.”
“All right,” Compton said. “We’re all ready, so let’s do it.”
With a final nod, Parker got up and left the car, passing through the front door and onto the vestibule. Crossing the vestibule, he went into the next car and then the next, proceeding through the cars until he walked through the dining car and started out the front door.
One of the dining car porters came up to him. “You can’t go no farther, Mister. There ain’t nothin’ up there but the baggage and express car, and there ain’t no passengers that’s allowed in it.”
Without a word in reply, Parker pulled his pistol and brought it down hard on the train crewman’s head. The porter collapsed to the floor. Nobody else in the dining car saw it, and Parker went on without any more interference.
From the front vestibule of the dining car, he climbed up onto the top of the express car, ran across it, then jumped down onto the tender and moved toward the engine. He saw the engineer with his hand on the throttle and the fireman standing alongside, leaning on his shovel. Neither of them saw him because they were engaged in conversation.
“Hey! Engineer! Stop this train!” Parker shouted, but there was too much noise for him to be heard.
“Hey! Engineer!” Parker shouted again.
When neither the engineer nor the fireman heard him, Parker fired two shots into the air, which caught the attention of both the engineer and the fireman, and they looked around in surprise.
“I want you to—”
A deep and very loud roar interrupted what he’d intended to say.
Looking up, Parker saw an avalanche of snow cascading down the side of the mountain, set in motion by the sound of his gunshots. He barely had time to open his mouth in a scream before tons of snow swept him from the top of the tender, burying him, the engine, the tender, and most of the baggage car under hundreds of feet of snow.
The train to come to an immediate and jarring stop, causing many of the sleeping passengers to tumble out of their seats. A few shouted out in alarm.
“All right, boys, he’s got it stopped. This is it!” Kelly shouted, and he and the other three advanced toward the rear of the car. Proxmire’s back was to them as they approach, and he was sitting next to the window, trying to figure out what had caused their sudden stop.
“Hello, Santelli,” Kelly said.
“Do not speak to the prisoners.” Proxmire turned away from the window and was shocked to see a gun pointed directly at him.
“What are—”
Kelly pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Proxmire between the eyes, forming a fan-like spray of blood on the window behind him.
The other passengers in the car were either trying to recover from the sudden stop or staring out the window when they heard the shot fired. In alarm, they all looked around and saw Proxmire’s bloody head leaning against the window. A woman screamed.
“Shut up!” Morris shouted, turning his pistol toward the other passengers. “I’ll shoot the next person who makes a sound!”
Cowed by the threat, the others in the car grew quiet as they watched through wide, frightened eyes. A little girl started crying.
“Shut that brat up!” Morris shouted.
The father clamped his hand over the child’s mouth.
Santelli held his hands up, showing his cuffed wrists. “The deputy has the keys in his jacket pocket.”
Morris dug out the keys and opened Santelli’s cuffs.
“What about him?” Morris indicated Luke Shardeen. “Should we take off his handcuffs?”
“No,” Santelli said as he rubbed his wrists. “Just shoot him and be done with it. Better yet, give me a gun and let
Acting quickly, so quickly it caught the others by surprise, Luke stood up from his seat and shoved Santelli back into Morris, causing both men to struggle to maintain their balance. With them distracted, he dashed out the back door, then leaped off the vestibule into a pile of snow nearly as high as the railcar itself. He disappeared at once.
The three armed men rushed out the back of the car and onto the vestibule. Kelly fired into the snowbank where Luke had jumped. They heard a rumble up above the pass, and more snow came sliding down.
“Don’t do that!” Compton shouted, reaching out to stay Kelly’s hand. “Don’t shoot again! You could bring the whole mountain down on us!”
Kelly swore. “Where did he go?”
“It don’t really matter much. Hell, it’s below zero and he ain’t wearin’ no coat,” Morris noted. “Like as not he’ll be froze to death in no more ’n ten minutes or so. What I’m wonderin’ is, what happened to Parker?”
“I expect he’s up in the engine, keepin’ the engineer and the fireman covered till we get up there,” Compton reckoned.
“So, what is the plan now?” Santelli asked.
“Soon as we get you free, we’re goin’ to go up to the front of the train,” Compton answered.
“Yeah,” Kelly added. “We’re goin’ to unhook the engine and go on down the pass, leavin’ the rest of the train up here.”
“Ha! Good plan,” Santelli agreed. “By the time anyone figures out what has happened, we’ll be long gone.”
The four men started forward then, tracing the same route Parker had taken, earlier.
