2008-8-11 02:21:00
by Ted Dewey
The three men took their time climbing up the rocky hillside. It was ten o'clock before they reached the top. This was hard work and the high altitude made breathing difficult.
Henry pointed to the slope below them. "This side won't be so bad," he predicted. "It's not so steep and rocky and there are more trees on this side of the mountain."
As Henry had predicted the going was much better. In about an hour they were at the bottom.
"Which way now?" Thomas asked.
Henry pointed with his thumb. "To the left. Keep under cover. Use the trees and bushes."
They bent over and kept going. Suddenly Henry motioned for his friends to stop. "Wait here a minute," he whispered. He dropped to his hands and knees and crept forward, parted the bushes and took a quick look.
There was no one in sight but the building was just ahead of them. The rustic walls and the green roof blended with the scenery. The long narrow runway was off to the left. The black and yellow plane was not there.
Henry turned his head. "Doesn't look like anyone is here. The plane is gone and I don't see or hear a soul."
"Maybe someone is inside," whispered Rodney.
Henry nodded, "Could be, but we sure can't take a chance." He pointed with his finger. "I am going to crawl over to those bushes. I'll be close enough to the building that I can pitch a little gravel at the door. You guys wait right here and keep me covered. Make sure you have a shell in the barrel."
Once more Henry was on all fours, crawling. When he was about fifty feet from the door he picked up a hand full of small rocks then give them a toss. Then he waited with his rifle ready.
Far a moment he lay there, hardly breathing. What would he do if someone come out with a gun in his hand?
But the door didn't open. Henry picked up a rock about the site of a teacup and gave it a toss. It landed on the roof with a thud. If someone were asleep inside this would surely awaken them.
Several minutes passed and no one came out. Henry crept back to his partners. "Doesn't seem to be anyone at home," he told them. "Where do we go from here?"
"Right now you are in charge of this operation," said Rodney. "What do you suggest?"
Henry looked back at the building. "It is possible that there is someone in there, but I don't think so. I suggest that two of go see and the other stay here just in case."
Rodney nodded and turned to Thomas. "I will go with Henry. If you see or hear anything suspicious whistle like a bobwhite quail, okay?"
"Get going."
"We will walk up just as bold as brass," said Henry. "If anyone catches us prowling around we will pretend that we are cougar hunters who have lost our way. I'll improvise from there."
Henry took the lead. They threw the guns over their shoulders and walked boldly up to the building. The curtains on the windows were drawn and there was still no one in sight.
Henry knocked on the door. There was no answer. He tried the doorknob. The door was locked.
Once more Henry beat on the door. Still no answer. He turned to Rodney. "Lets go around to the back. There should be another door."
Like the front, the one at the back was locked. The drapes on one of the windows was slightly parted. The inside was quite dark but they could see overstuffed sets and small tables scattered about giving it the appearance of a swanky roadhouse. Evidently the place had been completed and the furniture moved in. Now it was ready for the customers and it would accommodate quite a few. It was big enough to have a dozen rooms plus a kitchen and lounge, Henry thought.
Back about twenty feet from the main building was a small shed. It was about ten foot square. The two men walked over to it. On the door was a big padlock. "Sure would to know just what is in there," Rodney muttered. "Bet it would answer a lot of questions."
Henry grinned, "We could shoot the lock off."
Might not be such a bad idea at that, but, on the other hand, there should be another way. It would be better if the person that built this place didn't know we had discovered it. At least until we find out for sure who it is."
Henry was walking about looking down at the ground. Suddenly he discovered what he was looking for. He bent over and picked up two rocks about the size of cantaloupes. He moved over to the lock and placed it on one of the rocks and then came down hard on it with the other one. The lock flew open. He removed it from the hasp and handed it to the amazed Rodney Goldsmith.
"Anything else?" Henry grinned.
"You might open the door, my good man."
Henry bowed deeply and swung the door open wide.
The place was piled high with all kinds of junk. One end was stacked full of wooden crates. Empty paint buckets were on the floor and some old clothes hung on the wall.
Henry walked over to the crates. For a moment he stood staring at them. He picked one up and turned it around in his hands. It had been a long time since he had handled anything like this!
"You find something?" Rodney asked.
Henry nodded. "Ammunition crates! This pile here would hold enough cases to start a good-sized revolution!"
"Somehow this doesn't surprise me. Are they all empty?"
"I'll take a look..."
Henry took hold of the pile and gave it a shake.
"They appear to be." He removed another and turned it upside down. For a moment both men stood staring at the lettering on the card which was tied to the bottom. On it was printed: "Ship to Ira Baker; Phoenix, AZ.
There was also the name and address of a warehouse in that city.
Rodney's voice was just above a whisper, "Now we know- who it is as well as what he has in mind. We wouldn't let him in our camp so he is starting one of his own and right here on our property. There are no fallout shelters or food storage here, so what would they do if the bombs started dropping? Grab their machine guns and move in on us. They would kill us all and take over everything"
Henry nodded. "There is no doubt in my mind but what you are right. And it looks like they have just completed the place and are getting ready to move in. But there is one thing that doesn't make sense..."
"And what is that Henry?"
"Why in the world did they run off and leave this place without someone guarding it!"
The whistle of a bobwhite quail sounded in the distance.
The two men exchanged glances. No words were needed they grabbed their rifles and stepped out into the sunlight. Once more came the signal. They looked up into the sky and listened. No sign of an airplane someone must be coming on foot.
The buildings were in a small grove of trees. So whoever was coming must pass through the clearing that surrounded it. They would wait here and watch.
Suddenly Rodney whispered, "Look off to the right!"
Henrys glance shifted in that direction. Sure enough! Two men were coming through the clearing. One of them was carrying a rifle and the other a double barrel shotgun. Each of them had a grouse, which they held by the neck.
"Must have stepped out to get a little fresh meat," Henry whispered. "No doubt they were left here to guard the place. I think we should have a little talk with them, don't you?"
Henry nodded. "Do you know how to use that rifle?"
"I was a sharpshooter in the Army."
"Good. We will stay behind these bushes until they get about even with us. When I give the signal we will both rise up at the same time. You cover the one on the left and the other one is mine."
Rodney slipped the safety off on his rifle. Henry had taken care of his moments before.
The two men were getting close. They were laughing about something. Henry looked at Rodney and nodded. Both men got to their feet their guns pointed directly at the two men.
"Don't try anything!" Henry's voice was cold. "Stop right where you are!"
The voice of Oran Thomas come from behind them, "Drop your guns! You are covered from every direction!"
The two startled men stopped dead in their tracks. Both were looking straight down the barrel of a rifle!
They eased the guns to the ground, then slowly raised their hands.
Henry motioned with the gun barrel. "Now walk this way, a few steps. Move!"
The two men did as they were told.
Henry spoke to Oran, who had just stepped up behind the two men, "Throw their guns into the bushes and go through their pockets."
The search produced a key ring with a couple of keys, two pocket knives, and some shotgun shells.
"I guess that is about it." said Thomas.
Henry was far from satisfied. Both men were wearing western riding boots. He pointed the rifle at the feet of one of them, "Get them off!"
"Go to Hell!" The man's lip curled back in a snarl.
The rifle in Henry's hands exploded. A cloud of dust arose between the man's feet! The bullet went screaming into the air.
"Alright, alright; don't do that again!" The snarl turned to a whimper. He kicked off the boots in the direction of Oran Thomas.
The rifle in Henry's hands turned to the other fellow. No further shots were necessary. His boots joined the others. A thorough search of these riding boots produced amazing results -- two razor sharp knives, and a couple of double barrel derringers.
A big rotten log was, close at hand. Henry pointed with the rifle, "Sit down gents, and make yourself comfortable. We would like to ask you a few questions."
The men set down on the log. They were a rough looking pair, quite young in their late twenty's, Henry guessed. They had swarthy, shinning, black eyes; dark, stringy hair; and long beards. They were probably brothers, he concluded. Just a couple of cheap toughs that were hired to guard the place.
Henry took the boots and flung them far out into the clearing. The ground was covered with sharp stones. One thing for sure, they wouldn't go running after them. They could just sit there for awhile.
"Let's hold a conference," he told his partners and started walking toward the shed.
Rodney told Oran what they had found. Now, there was no doubt in any of their minds as to what Baker intended to do. When the occasion arose, they would take over The Valley of Hope.
It was a terrible thought: They just couldn't stay over there living in fear. They had spent millions building a place that they thought would be safe from the atomic bombs of the war that was almost certain to come. Then, along comes some two-bit mobsters, and threaten to take the whole thing over. They would bring in a bunch of rotten gangsters; filthy trash that had dreams of owning the whole world.
But what should they do now? That was the big question. They could not run to the law for protection. This was Indian country and they couldn't expect any help from them. They were not obligated.
It seemed to the three men that they had to choose between two bad alternatives. Either take everyone out of The Valley of Hope and get out of the country, or fight.
Now Baker, or Poletti, or whatever his name might be, had started this war. The three men were not about to turn tail and run. If Poletti wanted to fight, a fight it would be, and right now. They would burn this place to the ground.
"How about those two guys sitting over there?" asked Rodney. "What are we going to do with them?"
"They look like a couple of cheep thugs to me," said Thomas. "I don't think they know what this is all about."
"I don't think they will be hard to get rid of." Henry grinned. "Want me to run them off?"
Rodney and Oran exchanged glances, then nodded, "Mind if we listen?" Thomas asked.
Rodney agreed, "This should be worth watching."
The trio walked back to where the two men sitting on the log. They stopped in front of them.
"You are on our property," said Henry, "and we should shoot the pair of you for trespassing. In fact, I voted that we do."
He let that sink in for a moment, "You were left here to guard this place, and you screwed up. I wonder what your boss will think when he comes back and sees that the place has all gone up in smoke. And any way you look at it, you guys are going to get the blame, right?"
The two men slowly nodded their heads.
Henry turned to Oran, "Go get their boots. These boys, are going to take a long walk."
Oran retrieved the boots and the two men put them on. Henry pointed with his rifle in the opposite the direction of The Valley of Hope. "Over that hill is a state highway. White man's country. You should make it by nightfall if you hurry."
The two men stood up, exchanged glances, then started walking in the direction Henry had pointed.
Henry put the rifle to his shoulder, took a quick aim, and pulled the trigger. The screaming bullet ripped up the dirt between their feet.
"I said -- if you hurry!" Henry shouted. The two men took off on the run.
The next step was easy. Every window in the building was smashed to give it plenty of draft. A five-gallon can of gasoline found in the shed was a big help.
They were only about halfway up the mountain, headed for home, when a terrific explosion shook the earth. They looked back just in time to see particles of the building falling back to earth.
-- End Of Chapter Twenty-Four --
"When in doubt, tell the truth.
-- Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)
Word of the Day
Penultimate -- Noun: The next to last syllable in a word; adjective: next to the last. Example of use: The author inadvertently reveals the murderer in the penultimate chapter.
Copyright © 2008 by J.J. Dewey, All Rights Reserved