Reuben Cole Westerns Collection

Chapter 14

They made camp in the bottom of a large dip, where acacia trees gave them adequate shade, and there was grass and water for the horses. Breaking out biscuits and bacon, Notch soon had a fire burning and he mixed the food in a black pan and fried it. The smell of the cooking caused them all to salivate. Notch poured them coffee and they drank with gusto.

‘How are you now, Sollo?’ asked Pete, leaning back against a well-knotted tree, stretching out his legs with an expression of sheer delight on his face.

‘I’m fine.” He rolled his damaged shoulder as if to underline his words. “We’re a few hours away from Lawrenceville, but it’s best if we are rested and fed before we go in. I want us on high alert, boys.’

Notch looked up from stirring the biscuits and fat, ‘Why you say that? Expecting trouble?’

Soloman shrugged. He lay flat out on his back, hat over his eyes, arms behind his head. His stomach rumbled loudly. ‘Maybe. I don’t trust Kestler as far as I can spit.’

‘I thought you said you knew him from years back?’

‘I do. But that don’t make him any less than the snake he is. He’s never been totally trustworthy.’

‘Then why did you hook up with him?’ asked Pete, incredulous.

‘Yeah,’ said Notch, his voice a low grumble, ‘it cost old Peebie his life, didn’t it. Was it worth it?’

A heavy silence fell over them, the only sound the sizzling of the fat in the pan. Notch stirred through it half-heartedly. ‘That should never have happened. You said the house would be empty.’

‘Kestler told me it would be empty.’

told me ‘And you believed him.’

‘I had no reason to doubt him.’ Soloman sat up, face red, the anger brewing. ‘Understand this, Notch, Peebie’s death was not my fault.’

‘Never said it was.’ Notch shifted position, his mood dark, sombre. ‘This is ready. Wish we had some bread.’ He scooped out piles of biscuits and bacon onto tin plates and handed them over. Pete took his without ceremony and instantly started cramming huge spoonfuls greedily into his mouth. Soloman took his plate with much more grace, nodding his thanks, and taking his time with his eating.

‘I was in the Lucky Dime saloon,’ said Soloman, not looking up. ‘I’d been spending time there drinking and gambling. Peebie was doing better than any of us and we had enough money to find us a decent bunkhouse, with grub and a w***e or two. On the third morning, Kestler came in. He’s a big man, and he seemed to fill the room. Everyone went deathly quiet. He crossed to the bar, ordered whisky for him and his boys, and then he noticed me. Grinning, he came over and put down his glass in front of me. He told me he was pleased he’d bumped into me, that I should drink his drink. I was down to my last few dimes. I guess he knew that. I drank and his smile got wider. He told me he had a deal he’d like to discuss with me, seeing as we went way back.’ Soloman played with a clump of congealed biscuit and grease. He studied it for a long time before popping it into his mouth. l*****g his lips, he pushed the empty plate away and lay down on his back again. ‘We’d first met some years before, taking one of the last great cattle herds up to Wyoming. The railroad followed pretty darned quick after that, put a lot of us out of business. But on this last drive, Kestler and I got friendly. He was making his money selling that beef, and he’d made a lot of it. Said he was going to become sheriff, marshal even, of a frontier town called Lawrenceville. Well, he’d almost done it by becoming a constable there. Now, there he was, telling me his plan.’

Notch put away his plate. ‘To break into those big old houses?’

Soloman grunted. ‘There was riches in abundance – they was his words. In abundance. Apparently, he was bedding one of them cleaners who visited the homes on a regular basis and she told him everything he needed to know. Would you believe it, she even took pictures.’

In abundance. ‘Pictures?’ Pete laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. ‘Shoot, I have seen them. Photographs is what they is called. They is like paintings, only without the colours.’

‘That’s right,’ said Soloman. ‘He showed me some taken from the house we broke into. He said he wanted the big vases and the paintings. Said they was the most valuable, but there was also porcelain figures too. From Germany. He wanted them. We was to be extra careful and we—’

‘You told us all that,’ said Notch, sounding irritated. ‘Didn’t stop Pete here smashing that big old blue vase though, did it.’

At this, Pete looked up, grease oozing from both the corners of his mouth. ‘Notch, that was Peebie.’

‘My a*s,’ spat Soloman. ‘I knew it was you.’

‘It was that guy coming in the way he did, taking us all by surprise. I thought the house was empty, just like you said it was! Then, him shooting Peebie and all … I just wanted to get out as fast as I could.’

‘You said you didn’t know who that guy was, didn’t you, Sollo?’ asked Notch. ‘Did Kestler know?’

‘Nope. Kestler never gave me no names, just told me to get some boys, break in and get out. Then we was to do the same to two other houses. He drew me a map. Had it all worked out.’

‘Reuben Cole. If I’d have known then … I don’t think I would have signed up to any of this. Indians call hiom ‘He Who Comes’. You know why?’

‘No doubt you’re gonna tell me.’

‘Because he never stops.’

‘Never stops what?’

‘Stops hunting you until you are dead and buried deep.’ He shuddered. ‘If I’d have known…’

‘You’re full of it,’ spat Soloman. ‘He’s dead. I told you.’

‘You don’t know that – as I told you!’

I told ‘Pah …’ Soloman rolled over onto his side. ‘Kestler wasn’t bothered either way. Said he was gonna recruit another g**g to do the same further north.’

‘Another g**g? What is this, Soloman? You never said nothin’ about no other g**g!’

‘Ease up, Notch,’ said Soloman, turning over again and re-settling his hat over his eyes. ‘We ain’t likely to come into contact with them. They’re in the north I said.’

‘Even so, I don’t like the idea of us sharing.’

‘Well, whatever happens now,’ said Soloman, his voice sounding tired, resigned almost, ‘we have a lot of explaining to do. One, we ain’t got no vases and two, we never hit the other houses. Kestler ain’t gonna be too happy about any of that.’

‘But Peebie’s death changed everything,’ said Pete quietly.

‘Sure did,’ said Soloman with feeling, ‘but I doubt Kestler will see it that way.’

‘I swear, I’m truly sorry about that big old vase. You really think he’ll be mad?’

‘More than mad,’ said Soloman. ‘He is gonna be pissed.’