PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#503
During the daylight, it was easier going, but they were finding themselves in terrain that was full of sharp, steep gullies.
"We've got to do something different," Milo remarked. "Let's find a grove of trees to hide the wagon, give the horses a rest, and let me scout on ahead for easier traveling. This isn't doing us a bit of good, it's just wearing the horses and people out."
Phil wanted to nod his agreement, but he kept his exhausted mouth shut and slumped bacl against the Wooden framework of the traveling jail. The horses, equally as tired, stood docilly with hanging heads.
Milo took a quick study of the old map they had been able to find. "I'm not sure where we are, or how far away from the camp that Tom stayed at. "Dad, maybe you had better quiz Tom if he knows anything about the area around the camp. I'd just as soon avoid them until we are ready for a confrontation."
Milo has been gone a half hour, when he came pounding back. "We're awful close to their camp, but most every body is gone. The ferry is on the other side, like a bunch of them went across. We need to take the house and cut the ferry loose."
Phil and Adam were more than happy to stay behind with the wagon, although the heavy rifles they had underscored the serious of the situation.
Milo, Big and Mark went around the downriver side of the ferry terminal, Tom sauntered in the door like he had never been gone and had the three men eating breakfast killed before they knew what had happened. The silenced pistol did it's work, and Tom grinned to himself as he shot the man that had bullied him the most.
Tom knew where the axes were kept, and it took three of them to chop the cable in half. Released from it's tether, the ferry on the other side took agonizing minutes to ease itself back out into the swirling water and start sluggishly down stream.
The four men stayed hidden inside the house until the raft had gone out of sight.
"Ok, now what do we do," Tom asked as he wrapped the available food in napkins and stuffed them in a sack. "I'm sick and tired of listening to Adam's stomach growl, he's going to give us away one of these times."
Big smiled and snitched a unappetizing looking biscuit from the plate and took a bite. "Gag," he said, "horrible tasting junk."
The rest declined to test the market, so to speak, and Tom remarked that Adam didn't taste his food anyhow, so he'd be fine with the half cooked dough gobs.
"There should be money around here, the ferry receipts were kept in the honcho's room. If we trash the place and make it look like a robbery, they would be less likely to think it was us." Tom was already heading for a room with a big lock on the door.
It took two shots with the pistol to break the lock, and there was more money than Tom supposed. Stuffing the wads of cash in their shirts as a way to carry the illicit money, the rooms were sufficiently trashed to perpetuate the robbery ruse.
"We need to go, I'm getting a hinky feeling that the gang is not far away," Mark hissed. "NOW!" and they rode straight west, keeping the bulk of the buildings between them and the ferry terminals.
Riding hard, they were caught in the next rainstorm, getting soaked to the skin as they didn't take time to stop and unroll their slickers. It rained hard enough that there were steady streams of water falling from the back of their hats to run down their backs and pool uncomfortably in the saddles.
During the daylight, it was easier going, but they were finding themselves in terrain that was full of sharp, steep gullies.
"We've got to do something different," Milo remarked. "Let's find a grove of trees to hide the wagon, give the horses a rest, and let me scout on ahead for easier traveling. This isn't doing us a bit of good, it's just wearing the horses and people out."
Phil wanted to nod his agreement, but he kept his exhausted mouth shut and slumped bacl against the Wooden framework of the traveling jail. The horses, equally as tired, stood docilly with hanging heads.
Milo took a quick study of the old map they had been able to find. "I'm not sure where we are, or how far away from the camp that Tom stayed at. "Dad, maybe you had better quiz Tom if he knows anything about the area around the camp. I'd just as soon avoid them until we are ready for a confrontation."
Milo has been gone a half hour, when he came pounding back. "We're awful close to their camp, but most every body is gone. The ferry is on the other side, like a bunch of them went across. We need to take the house and cut the ferry loose."
Phil and Adam were more than happy to stay behind with the wagon, although the heavy rifles they had underscored the serious of the situation.
Milo, Big and Mark went around the downriver side of the ferry terminal, Tom sauntered in the door like he had never been gone and had the three men eating breakfast killed before they knew what had happened. The silenced pistol did it's work, and Tom grinned to himself as he shot the man that had bullied him the most.
Tom knew where the axes were kept, and it took three of them to chop the cable in half. Released from it's tether, the ferry on the other side took agonizing minutes to ease itself back out into the swirling water and start sluggishly down stream.
The four men stayed hidden inside the house until the raft had gone out of sight.
"Ok, now what do we do," Tom asked as he wrapped the available food in napkins and stuffed them in a sack. "I'm sick and tired of listening to Adam's stomach growl, he's going to give us away one of these times."
Big smiled and snitched a unappetizing looking biscuit from the plate and took a bite. "Gag," he said, "horrible tasting junk."
The rest declined to test the market, so to speak, and Tom remarked that Adam didn't taste his food anyhow, so he'd be fine with the half cooked dough gobs.
"There should be money around here, the ferry receipts were kept in the honcho's room. If we trash the place and make it look like a robbery, they would be less likely to think it was us." Tom was already heading for a room with a big lock on the door.
It took two shots with the pistol to break the lock, and there was more money than Tom supposed. Stuffing the wads of cash in their shirts as a way to carry the illicit money, the rooms were sufficiently trashed to perpetuate the robbery ruse.
"We need to go, I'm getting a hinky feeling that the gang is not far away," Mark hissed. "NOW!" and they rode straight west, keeping the bulk of the buildings between them and the ferry terminals.
Riding hard, they were caught in the next rainstorm, getting soaked to the skin as they didn't take time to stop and unroll their slickers. It rained hard enough that there were steady streams of water falling from the back of their hats to run down their backs and pool uncomfortably in the saddles.
, thank you Pac
