Ironhorse

95

We moved over the crest of the ridge at a steady trot all the way to the last mining camp this side of the road. I was not certain if it was the dun having to be put down, or the passing of valuable time, or a combination of both that was causing Virgil’s deliberateness, but whatever it was, he was in no mood for dally or delay. We dismounted, walked our horses for a ways through some tall brush and tied them behind a shed where the telegraph wire crossed over the road.

“What we know for sure is we’re dealing with four of them,” Virgil said.

Virgil pulled a second Colt from his saddlebag and secured it firmly under his belt.

“Wellington,” Virgil said, “Lassiter, and two pickup riders.”

“Could be more,” I said.

“Could,” Virgil said.

Virgil pointed with the Henry rifle in the direction we were getting ready to walk.

“Know soon enough,” Virgil said.

“Figure the pickup hands will likely be on watch,” I said. “Don’t think they’ll be expecting anyone, but they’ll most likely be on the lookout.”

Virgil nodded.

“That’s most likely right.”

“And we got a muleteer or some such to contend with, but late as it is now, he more than likely would be nearing the pass with the mule, don’t you think?”

“That’d be my surmise,” Virgil said.

“So you’re thinking more than likely there is more than four we are dealing with?” Berkeley said.

“You just figure more,” Virgil said, “always figure more.”

Virgil nodded to Berkeley and Jimmy John, making sure they understood. They nodded back.

“Also, to reckon with in the unfolding,” Virgil said. “We have the women hostages to deal with.”

“Providing they are alive,” Berkeley said.

“We go at this, every step of the way,” Virgil said, “with the contention they most assuredly are alive.”

“And Ernest, the telegraph operator, too,” I said. “We got to take him into account as well.”

“Ernest is no him,” Jimmy John said.

I looked at Virgil and back to Jimmy John.

“Like a lot of the operators, Ernest C. is woman, about the same age as Jenny — pretty, too, like Jenny.”

I had thought when Jimmy John previously asked which operator had pounded the note and I told him Ernest C. he found the news disparaging. I suspected there was a connection between Jimmy John and Ernest C., but I did not inquire and Jimmy John did not elaborate.

“Berkeley? Jimmy John?” Virgil said. “Either one of you need to forgo killing, now’s the time to say so. I do not want to get into the fray and have one or both of you get weak-kneed on me.”

“Unthinkable to abuse a horse, Virgil, but it’s unconscionable to hold someone against their will,” Berkeley said. “I’m all for a person being able to do what they want, free to choose, whoring or preaching. Don’t want to make choices for nobody, and nobody should make choices for me or anybody else. The way I look at this is, those girls are being held against their will and that is just not right. Hell of a lot harder to lay down that dun horse than it will be to sort out these kidnappers.”

“Choices and sorting out is one thing, killing is altogether another,” Virgil said.

“You’ll get no hiccup from me, Virgil,” Berkeley said.

“Jimmy John?” Virgil said.

Jimmy John shook his head firmly.

Virgil looked back and forth between the two, waiting to see if there was a need to reconsider, but the two men both registered firm constitution.

“Jimmy John, that stick ’n string could come in real handy, but I need to know for sure you won’t get fearful.”

“If you walked away,” Jimmy John said, “I would go at this alone.”

“Why?” Virgil said.

“Because,” Jimmy John said, “just because.”