Badge Without Honor: A Rewrite
by
Jenny Guttridge
Authors
note: This reworking of a ‘Bonanza’ episode is for free distribution only.
It is in no way intended to infringe the copyright of the original author or of
‘Bonanza’.
Carrying the
payroll for the sprawling empire that was the Ponderosa was a big
responsibility, but Adam Cartwright, first-born son of the patriarch and owner,
Ben Cartwright, had done it a hundred times before. He was taking it very much
in his stride. Never the less, it was a substantial amount of money for one man
to be carrying around with him, and he was exercising all proper caution as he
approached the most dangerous part of the trail. ‘Pache Gate was a narrow
place where tall, standing stones leaned in on either side of the road and
pinched a man in tight.
It was very quiet
in the fading heat of a bright summer’s day, too quiet for Adam’s peace of
mind. He slowed his horse to a walk. The dry and dusty landscape lay serene all
about him. There was no sign of any movement among the rocks, but, looking down,
he could see fresh tracks in the dirt of the path. Shod horses, two of them with
riders aboard, had passed this way not very long ago.
Increasingly
uneasy, Adam drew rein and brought his horse to a halt. There was a distinct and
persistent itch between his shoulder blades that had saved his life before. He
wasn’t about to ignore it now. His alert, amber coloured eyes were everywhere,
glancing from rock to rock. There were a dozen places beside the trail where
bandits could lie in wait; Adam knew with sudden and absolute certainty that
they were lying for him now, hidden in deadly ambush. He leaned down, reaching
for his saddle gun. From behind him, he heard a distinct double click. Adam
ducked low. A bullet whistled over his head. Adam left the saddle in one hell of
a hurry, hearing the blast of gunfire close at hand as two more shots passed by
in quick succession. He was caught in somebody’s crossfire.
His shoulder hit
the ground hard enough to hurt as he rolled and rolled again, picking up a lot
of dirt as he went but, fortunately, no lead. He came to his hands and his feet
in one easy movement and scrambled crabwise for the cover of a sentinel stone.
Around him there was silence, and absolute and unearthly quiet. No birds sang,
no crickets chirruped in the sparse, yellow grasses, even the desert wind had
died away. It was as if the world were holding its breath.
Adam was puzzled.
Men had exchanged shots, and he knew that out there in the rocks someone had
died, yet he hadn’t caught a glimpse of any one of them. He called out into
the silence, "Who are you?"
"A
friend." The voice came from behind him. A man appeared from among the
rocks.
Adam turned
swiftly, his Colt swinging with him. "A friend?" His tone was
doubtful. "You’re sure a feather-footed one. Who are you?" He still
had his gun in hand; the payroll in his saddlebags was very much on his mind.
The stranger
smiled. "Gerald Heskith, that’s my name." He leaned back on his
heels and regarded the sceptical expression on Adam’s face. "Here,
perhaps this will relieve your mind." He reached inside his coat and
produced a leather wallet full of paper and a silver metal badge.
Adam put his gun
away and took the pouch, reading quickly. "U.S. Deputy Marshal. I can’t
say I’m sorry to see you." He made himself relax and handed the wallet
back.
He took the time to
look Heskith over. Aged about fifty, brown-haired and grey-eyed, he was not a
big man. He was dapper in manner and neat in dress. His clothing was of good
quality although thoroughly covered with dust. His face was honest and open, his
gaze, direct, but there was something about his manner and his high sounding
tone that grated on Adam’s nerves. Adam Cartwright decided he didn’t like
Heskith one bit. He nodded his head toward the rocks where the dead men lay
"Who were they?"
Heskith answered
quickly. "The Clavenger brothers. Friends of yours?"
Adam reacted with
surprise and alarm. It was a name that he knew. "Hardly that. But you may
have made a terrible mistake."
With a smile,
Heskith shook his head. "Just be thankful that you’re still alive, and
I’ll be thankful that I’ve reached the end of a long trail. The Clavengers
were wanted in California, for bank robbery. I had the unpleasant duty of
killing their elder brother. He was robbing sluice boxes."
It was a story Adam
had heard reported, a grim and bloody tale. He had always doubted the truth of
it. "Ah, so you’re the one."
Heskith made a
little bow. "I was only fulfilling my humble duty."
Against his better
judgment, Adam invited Heskith home.
*******
Ben
Cartwright held out his hand in greeting. "Mister Heskith, welcome to the
Ponderosa. From what Adam tells me, we’re greatly in you debt."
Heskith smiled the
ready smile that never reached his eyes. "I’m happy that I was fortunate
enough to be in the right place at the right time."
"We’ll try
to make your stay here very comfortable." With a gesture of the hand, Ben
directed his unexpected guest toward his house and into the keeping of his two,
younger sons. The senior Cartwright had already seen the look of reservation on
his eldest’s handsome face. He followed Adam to his horse. "Adam,
anything else you want to tell me?"
Adam untied the
saddle strings and lifted the bulging saddlebags from behind the cantle of his
saddle, settling the across his own, broad shoulder. "I still can’t
believe it, Pa. I’m not selling the Clavengers short. They’re the biggest
bunch of renegades I’ve known. But I still can’t imagine them taking a shot
at me!"
Ben could hear the
uncertainty in his son’s voice. He sighed and frowned. "You never know
with that bunch. Old Gideon Clavenger and his boys have been making their own
law for so long you don’t know when they’ll step over the line any more. And
you did have the ranch payroll with you." He laid a proprietary hand on the
swell of the saddlebag.
"They must
have thought I was someone else." Adam obviously remained unhappy about the
deaths of two men he had known, not well, but for a long time.
It was plain to Ben
that his son was not about to be persuaded. "I know how you feel, Adam, but
the Marshal did have a warrant for them."
Adam’s tawny eyes
met his father’s gaze squarely. "One thing’s for certain; he isn’t
too upset about it." His dislike of Heskith was plain and apparent. There
was nothing Ben could do about it.
"Now come
inside. We have a guest to care for. We’ll decide what to tell Gideon
Clavenger later."
"If he gives
us the chance," Adam picked up his rifle and turned towards the house.
*******
Heskith
sipped his wine. It was a rare and expensive vintage, and as a man of some small
refinement, he could appreciate both its colour and its flavour. He turned to
Ben with an expansive gesture, continuing their conversation.
"Violence in
itself is vulgar. Any man who, in anger, takes another human being’s life
becomes a brother to the ape. He is an aesthetically impoverished man. Don’t
you think so?" This last question was addressed to Hoss, who didn’t have
much of an idea what ‘impoverished’ meant, leave alone ‘aesthetically’.
"Oh, yes,
sir." Hoss looked at his little brother for support. "I reckon."
Heskith was in full
spout and wasn’t about to be stopped now. "And yet, the skills and
rhythms of disciplined violence have beauty – like a painting by Ruben's or
Botticelli, unfettered by personal emotion." He paused, considering.
"Emotion. That’s the downfall of most artists and many human
creatures."
By now, Hoss was
well out of his depth. Ben came to his rescue. "That’s a very interesting
observation, Mister Heskith. I don’t think I could cast you as an average
lawman."
"I’ve been
told that," Heskith said. He set his glass down on the table. "Well, I
think the elegance and hospitality of your home have made me forget my original
mission. I’m here to visit a Mister Jason Blaine. Would you know him?"
"The assayer?
Oh, yes." Ben was expansive. "I know him. I know him very well, him
and his wife."
Heskith was
surprised. "Jason married?"
"About a year.
Why, they were married right here in this very room."
Adam, who had been
sitting very quietly, listening, chose that moment to join in the conversation.
"Jason has always been a little hard to know, but Mariette is almost a part
of out family."
Heskith’s eyes
took on a curious glow. "Mariette? What a charming name."
Ben sat down and
made himself comfortable. "Her father was a very dear friend of mine. When
he died, he left the raising of Mariette almost entirely to my
supervision."
Thoughtfully,
Heskith said, "Jason married. How very, very interesting. A pretty
girl?"
Adam smiled.
"Well, we always thought so, but then, we might be prejudiced."
Heskith put a hand
on his shoulder. "I have a feeling I can trust your judgement in this
matter."
Adam shifted
uneasily. He didn’t like the lawman’s touch. Right then, came the call to
supper. Heskith turned to Ben. "Do I have time to freshen up before we
eat?"
"Yes, of
course. I’ll show you to your room." Ben led the way to the staircase,
talking banalities. Adam watched them go. He couldn’t like Heskith even though
the man had saved his life. He couldn’t say why. It was just a deep down
feeling that he had. Something about the man made his guts crawl.
Little Joe stood at
his shoulder. "Adam, what are you staring at?"
"I didn’t
realize I was."
Joe settled himself
on the arm of the chair and looked his big brother full in the face. "I
know you feel bad about the Clavengers. It was like Heskith said. Bob and Bill
had a bead on your back. He had to shoot fast and any way he could. Just be
grateful he was there."
"Yeah."
Adam still couldn’t dispel his feelings of unease. "I’ll try to
remember that."
Joe punched him in
the shoulder. "C’mon. Let’s have supper." For a moment longer,
Adam stayed where he was, gazing after Heskith’s vanished back. His teeth were
gritted edge to edge. Then, not finding any answers, he joined his brothers at
the table.
*******
Adam
and Ben rode with Heskith into Virginia City. The raw-edge boomtown had grown
into a thriving settlement, and Heskith was suitably impressed. Riding between
the two Cartwrights, the Marshal was still exercising his vocal chords. "I
hope you’ll go along with my little whimsy in wanting to surprise Jason. We
were such close friends, and it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen
him."
Adam looked across
at him. "Are you sure you can find the house?"
"My dear Adam,
your directions are most explicit."
Ben was more
enthusiastic, ever the gracious host. " And don’t forget I want you to
spend at least a few days at the ranch house. I know that Adam and the boys will
want to take you on that cougar hunt."
Heskith looked from
one to the other. "Ben, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your
hospitality, and as I’ve told you before, there’s nothing in life that I
find more exciting than a hunt. Thank you again, both of you."
Adam watched him
ride away. He still had that crawling feeling in the pit of his belly. Perhaps
it was just that Heskith talked too much. Ben leaned across. "Adam, when
you get through at the bank, meet me at the hotel. We’ll have a bite to
eat."
"Sure,
Pa."
Ben rode away. Left
to himself, Adam sat for a time looking after Heskith. Then he turned his
thoughts towards the business of the day.
*******
His
business complete, Adam was leaving the bank when he saw Jason Blaine crossing
the street towards him. He stopped and waited, and, while they were not exactly
friends, the two men shook hands cordially enough. "Jason, good morning.
How are you?"
"Adam."
Blaine seemed pleased to see him. A man about thirty or thirty-five, he had a
weak chin and watery eyes. Adam had always been uncertain what Mariette, a
pretty girl in a blonde and wistful sort of way, had ever seen in him.
He said, "Did
your friend find you?"
"Who’s
that?"
"Your friend
from California. Gerald Heskith."
Blaine stared at
him, apparently stunned. "No."
"Anything
wrong?"
"Er –
no." Blaine pulled himself together. "Heskith, he’s here? In
town?"
"He stopped
over at the ranch last night, and he rode into town with us. He went to your
house, said he wanted to surprise you."
Blaine was still
looking into Adam’s face, but he wasn’t really seeing him. His thoughts
seemed to be a thousand miles away. After a moment, he said, "Thank you,
Adam," and, abruptly, walked away. Adam gazed after him, concerned.
*******
As
agreed, Adam met with his father in the lobby of The International House. Ben
had read through the latest edition of The Clarion from cover to cover; as his
son approached, he put the paper down.
Adam perched
himself on the arm of his father’s chair. "Pa, have you seen Heskith?"
"He’s
probably still with Jason. Did you get that matter settled at the bank?"
"Yeah. As I
was leaving, I ran into Jason, and I told him Heskith was looking for him. He
seemed very upset about it. Do you think that Heskith is here to see Jason as a
friend, or in his official capacity?"
It was a
possibility that Ben hadn’t thought about. He considered it now. "Well, I
don’t know. Heskith is a Deputy United States Marshal. That’s more than we
really know about Jason. He rode in here, swept Mariette off her feet. Of
course, he’s done very well here, been very good to her. That’s all you can
ask of any man."
Adam’s face still
wore a frown. "Well, I’d feel better if I talked to Mariette and Jason,
just asked them if there was anything wrong."
Adam’s worry was
contagious; Ben found he had a dose of it too. "I think that’s a good
idea. Also remind Mariette that we’re still her family for as long as she
needs us. While you’re over there, I’ll go and talk to Judge Rand."
Lunch forgotten,
the Cartwright men headed for the door.
*******
Mariette
Blaine, blond-haired, blue-eyes and porcelain-pretty, was busily tidying the
main room of the house when the knocking came at the door. She patted her curls
and smoothed out the skirts of her bright-blue dress before she lifted the
latch. Adam Cartwright stood on her porch, his hat in his hand. "Hello,
Mariette."
The woman threw
herself into his arms. "Oh, Adam! I’m so glad to see you!"
Adam held her.
Beneath the dress and the constraint of the corset, he could feel the tension in
her body, the slight tremor. "Is something the matter?"
"Oh, no!"
Mariette moved away from him, smiling brightly. "It’s just that it’s
been so long since I’ve seen you!"
Adam could see that
the smile was forced. He closed the door behind him. "Where’s
Jason?"
"He went down
to the office to look at some things."
Adam looked around
the room. It was a large and comfortable room, brilliant with sunlight spilling
through the window and cluttered with all the trimmings of feminine domesticity.
There seemed to me nothing amiss. "Look, Mariette, my father regards you
almost as a daughter. If there’s anything that I can do to help you… What
happened when Gerald Heskith came here?"
"Nothing
happened." Mariette fussed with her duster. "I think Mister Heskith is
a very charming man. Why, we even had tea!"
Adam said nothing.
He gazed at her, waiting. Abruptly, her face crumpled. "Oh, Adam! I just
can’t lie to you! I tried, but I just can’t!"
She hurled himself
at him, and he held her for a moment before he freed himself and helped her into
a chair. "Now, tell me all about it?"
The storm of tears
passed quickly. Mariette raised a stained and blotched face. "Jason has to
go to California to be a witness in a trial."
"That
doesn’t sound too terrible."
"I know. But
the men he has to testify against have threatened to kill him. You see, that’s
why Jason left California."
"I see."
Adam thought about it. "Did he talk to Judge Rand about this?"
Mariette
brightened, briefly. "That was my first suggestion, but Jason didn’t
think it would do any good."
"Jason’s
upset." Adam smiled reassurance. "I think I’m in a better position
to decide than he is. I’ll go and see Judge Rand. I think we’ll find that
Jason can make a deposition right here in Virginia City."
Mariette’s eyes
glowed. "Could you really do something like that?"
Committed, Adam
stood up. "We won’t know until I ask."
*******
Adam
went to see Judge Rand. Ben had already been there, and, apparently, so had
Heskith. The Judge knew all about the Clavenger brothers and about Jason
Blaine’s required trip to Sacramento. He was not entirely unsympathetic, but
he was a man of the law, and he had a job to do.
"Heskith was a
little late in presenting his papers," he said to Adam across the
considerable width of his cluttered desk. "But they were perfectly in
order. Jason Blaine will have to go. The case is a landmark one against Hadley
Murdoch and several John Does."
Adam had heard
about Hadley Murdoch. Hunched in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair, he
scowled. "Mariette is concerned for Jason’s safety."
"And with
reason." Judge Rand, a solid and substantial man, sat back in his chair and
made a steeple out of his fingers. "Marshal Heskith has guaranteed his
personal protection as far as Sacramento. There’ll be other Federal Marshals
to assist him there."
Increasingly
unhappy, Adam shook his head. He was starting to trust Heskith less and less.
"Look, I have to go to Sacramento on business of my own in a week or
two’s time. I can change my plans and ride along with Heskith, make sure Jason
gets there safely. It might put Mariette’s mind at rest."
"Well,
that’s good of you Adam." Judge Rand acquiesced. "There is one other
thing."
Adam, half-risen,
sat back in his chair "And what’s that?"
"This business
of killing the Clavenger brothers. Your father told me that old Gideon Clavenger
has already been to see him."
Adam’s face
clouded. "That’s right, but it didn't seem as if he wanted to make
trouble."
"Heskith had a
warrant for their arrest in California, but Clavenger is a strange old man.
He’ll brood about the death of his sons, and he’s as likely as not to step
outside the law."
"You think
that he might come after Heskith?"
"I think he
just might."
*******
Adam
met up with Heskith in the lobby of the hotel: the very same elegant room where
he had spoken with his father just short hours before. In a few, brief words he
told the Marshal of his decision to ride along with him across the state line
into California.
Heskith frowned,
and, for the briefest moment, something dark shifted deep down in his eyes. Then
his face brightened and his smile reappeared. "Adam, I find this a land of
unexpected pleasures. Little did I dream that you’d be making the trip to
Sacramento with me."
Adam watched him
closely. "Since I am, don’t you think it would be a good idea to let me
in on the truth?" He saw the smile falter, just a little and just for a
second. Heskith knew Adam was on to his little deception; Adam knew it, and
Heskith knew that he knew it.
Heskith said,
warily, "Isn’t that rather a strange way to ask a question, Adam?"
"As Pa and I
told you, we think a great deal of Mariette."
Shadows crossed the
lawman’s face as he reassessed his position. "And so do I think a lot of
her." He said distantly. "That’s why I tried to spare her the
seriousness of Jason’s case."
"Then he’s
not just a missing witness?" This was what Adam had suspected all along,
what he had been waiting to hear.
Heskith shook his
head. "A missing criminal, but, on you honour, Adam, this is to go no
further than Virginia City. By turning State’s evidence, he’ll be free to
return here with no damage to his so-called reputation."
"Then I
appreciate whatever protection you can give Mariette." Adam meant what he
said.
The smile returned,
a little thinner, a little the worse for wear; it didn’t quite reach his eyes,
which were watchful. "You know, I believe we think alike. I even had Jason
listed in the documents as a witness, not as one of the accused."
Adam considered
that. It was just possible, he supposed, that he had misjudged the lawman right
from the outset. He allowed himself to smile. "Thank you for telling me.
I’d like to get him the best lawyer I can find."
Heskith stood up
and Adam arose too, hat in hand. "I don’t want you to think it rude of
me," Heskith said. "but in the circumstances, I think it best if I
don’t return to the Ponderosa. I’ll take a room at the hotel, and, if it’s
convenient to you, we’ll leave, shall we say, first thing in the
morning?"
"That’s fine
by me. I’ll bring your luggage with me."
Heskith nodded. He
was suave, relaxed, and the smile was back. "And bring along your best
suit, Adam. I know some pretty girls in Sacramento, and, perhaps, we can forget
the more unpleasant aspects of a Marshal’s duty."
"Very good.
Adam shook Heskith’s hand. He was still a little uneasy, but as he was going
to share a trail with the man... "Look, if I seemed a little cool towards
you, it was only because of my concern for Mariette." Heskith accepted the
apology with grace. "Well, I’d better let Pa know what’s happened.
I’ll see you in the morning." Adam headed for the door.
*******
They
started out rather later than they had originally intended. The sun was already
directly overhead when Adam swung up into his saddle. Ben put a hand up on the
saddle leathers. "You be careful, son."
Adam looked into
his father’s dark eyes and saw the concern concealed in their depths.
"Don’t you worry, Pa. I’ll be all right. I’ll wire you from
Sacramento."
Ben nodded and
stepped back as Adam gathered his reins. Adam knew his father was uneasy about
this trip; he had already made that very clear. Adam had made up his mind, and
he wasn’t about to be talked into changing it. He could see that the
expression of concern was still etched into Ben’s face as he backed his horse
away from the rail and raised his hand in farewell.
The three men rode
out of town in single file. Heskith went first on his shaggy, dark gelding and
Jason Blaine, depressed and dejected on a borrowed horse, rode behind. Adam,
leading the packhorse on a length of rope, brought up the rear of the group.
The day was a hot
one and threatened to get hotter, ‘though there were clouds gathering over the
mountains that threatened rain before nightfall. They rode south, first of all,
towards Carson City. At a steady pace, they put five miles behind them before
Heskith held up his hands for a halt. He turned his horse ‘round and let Adam
ride up beside him.
"We’re
making good time. In three days time, I want to make camp on the banks of the
Carson."
To Adam, who knew
the country very well, it seemed like a reasonable schedule. "I don’t see
any problem with that, as long as that storm doesn’t wash the roads
away." He indicated the gathering clouds with a nod of the head. The storms
were seasonal, and it was that time of year; their violence could take an
unprepared man by surprise.
Heskith raised his
face and looked at the sky.
"It would be
unfortunate if we were unduly delayed," he said.
Adam looked at his
sharply. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing
really." Heskith shrugged. "Just that we wouldn’t want to be longer
than necessary on the trail. The Murdoch gang might get wind of out journey. In
the mean time…" He turned towards Blaine. "I think we’ll have
these of you. Hands behind you, if you please."
Adam gazed in
surprise and alarm at the handcuffs Heskith held out. "I don’t think
that’s really necessary
Heskith smiled that
same, thin smile: the one that didn’t come anywhere near his eyes. "Oh,
my dear Adam, I assure you it is. I wouldn’t want my prisoner to get
away."
"Prisoner?"
Adam looked quickly from Heskith to Blaine. "You told me you were taking
Jason in as a witness."
"That’s as
may be. But I wouldn’t put it past our friend here to take a little side trip
if the opportunity presented itself." Heskith fastened the handcuffs in
place. "There, that’s better. Now he won’t be tempted."
Adam turned to
Jason Blaine. "Is what the Marshal tells me true?"
Miserably, Jason
nodded. He gave a crooked grin. "It’s true enough. I worked for the
Murdoch gang once. As an assayer, I was ideally placed to tip them off whenever
a strike was made."
"There you
are." Heskith made an elegant gesture. "An admission from the man’s
own lips. What more do you want?"
Determinedly, Adam
said, "I want to see him get a fair trial."
Blaine scoffed,
"They’re gonna lock me up for seven years, Adam. If I manage to get to
Sacramento alive."
Adam’s eyes
glittered. "I’ll get you there, Jason. I gave Mariette my word."
Heskith smiled on
the both benignly. "You’ll get a trial, Jason, don’t you worry.
Gentlemen, shall we go? We wouldn’t want to be caught in the rain. Dear Adam,
would you care to take the lead?"
Gritting his teeth,
Adam rode on ahead. That word ‘dear’ was starting to get on his nerves.
*******
The
three men made camp before sunset, in a thicket of trees a mile from the road.
The clouds had fallen down off the mountains, and the sky was completely
overcast. Adam and Heskith barely had time to gather dry firewood before it
started to rain. Adam elected himself trail-cook because it was what he was good
at, and because he liked to eat well. Heskith took care of the horses. Blaine
spent his time handcuffed to the horn of his saddle. Heskith wasn’t about to
take chances.
Lightening flashed
from cloud to cloud, and the thunder crashed right over their heads. A cold wind
blew in from the west, and it was obvious that they were all about to get wet.
Adam served the food: warmed over food from the Cartwright’s own kitchen and
well-risen, pan baked bread. Heskith responded with genuine appreciation.
"One day, Adam, you’re going to make someone a wonderful wife."
Adam began to think
that this was going to be a very long trip indeed.
With the coming of
darkness the rain came in earnest. It marched across the land in driving walls
of water. Lightening flared, and the thunder rolled through the heavens. Adam,
wisely, had built the fire in a sheltered place, but even so, he had to work
hard to keep it going as the wind tried to blow it away. Wrapped in his oilskin,
he sat close beside it, feeding it sticks from his small supply and sheltering
it from the weather with the bulk of his body.
Heskith, as might
have been expected, talked. His voice carried clearly though the wind and the
rain. He talked of his travels to the Far East and to Europe. According to
Heskith, he had shot tigers in India, dined with the crowned heads of Europe and
slept with every noble lady under the sun. Some of his tales had a slight ring
of truth, but Adam, on general principle, was disinclined to believe anything
that the lawman said.
By the time
they’d banked the fire for the night and each turned into their blankets, Adam
had come to the firm conclusion that Heskith was in love with the sound of his
own voice. For his own part, Adam had heard enough of it to last him a lifetime.
Sleep was hard to
come by. The first fury of the storm was over, but it was still raining steadily
with occasional bursts of thunder and lightening rolling over their heads. The
canopy of leaves and branches that had, at first, provided protection from the
weather, was starting to leak in a hundred places. It was hard to avoid the
drips. Even wrapped in his blankets and the oilskin covering, Adam was far from
comfortable. His clothes were damp, and his upturned saddle made an unyielding
pillow that smelled very strongly of horse. Aching and uneasy, he lay on his
back with his elbow under his head. It was a very long time before his eyes
closed and his awareness drifted away.
*******
Adam
woke up with a start. The night was very dark, but not at all quiet. The storm
still rumbled in the distance as it drifted away towards the east to exhaust
itself out in the desert. Although the rain had stopped, the water still dripped
steadily from the leaves and branches. A wind had arisen and sighed among the
treetops. He was cramped and cold, but sleeping on unforgiving ground was
something he was used to. The discomfort wasn’t what had awakened him. He
raised himself on his elbow, squinting into the dark.
"Adam.
Adam!" The voice was Jason Blaine’s. Adam saw the flare of distant
lightening reflected in his eyes. Blaine gestured urgently. "Adam, come
over here!"
Adam glanced
towards Heskith. The Marshal lay with his back turned, bundled in his blankets
and apparently asleep. Moving cautiously and without a sound, Adam left his
makeshift bed and moved to Blaine’s side. Blaine jerked at the handcuff that
attached him to the pommel of his saddle. His wrist was already raw.
"Adam,
you’ve gotta get me out o’ these chains. You’ve gotta let me go!"
Adam hunkered down
beside him. "You know I can’t do that, Jason."
"You just
gotta, Adam! I’ll go away. I swear it! I won’t never come back!"
"You broke the
law."
Blaine stared at
him; his face was a strained white oval in the darkness, wet with sweat despite
the cool dampness in the air. "I ain’t done nothin’ ta die for! I
ain’t never killed no one. All I took was money."
"I’ll be
there to see you get a fair trial."
"There ain’t
never gonna be no trial! Heskith’s gonna kill me long before I get anywhere
near Sacramento." Blaine looked towards the sleeping Marshal; his look was
one of fear verging on terror.
Adam followed the
look with a long glance of his own. What Blaine was saying had a ring of truth
– or was he just hearing what he wanted to hear, confirming his own dislike of
the voluble lawman. Blaine’s whisper hissed in the darkness. "The
Murdochs are afraid I’ll testify against them. Heskith’s their paid
man."
Adam thought about
it. It seemed entirely reasonable that the Murdoch gang would want to dispose of
any witness that was likely to turn State’s evidence against them. On the
other hand, he had no real reason to think that the Marshal was anything other
than what he said he was, despite his personal dislike of the man. He released a
pent up breath.
"I promised
Mariette that I would get you safe to Sacramento, and that’s what I’m going
to do."
Blaine drew away
from him; his face was full of fear. "If you won’t let me loose, Adam,
then get yourself out of here. Ride out first thing in the morning and don’t
look back. If you ride along with us, Heskith will kill you too."
Adam put a
reassuring hand on Blaine’s shoulder. I’m not about to let Heskith kill
either of us. Now, you try and get some sleep."
Returning to his
bed, Adam found his blankets cold and unwelcoming. Sleep proved to be an
illusive bedmate; she didn’t call again that night. Adam lay on his back and
stared up into the darkness, listening to the fading storm. He thought long and
hard about the things that Blaine had told him. His suspicions regarding
Heskith’s intentions had returned in full-force. He knew he didn’t like the
man, didn’t like his dapper manner and didn’t like his mealy mouth.
Something sinister lurked behind that bland, urbane mask. Could it be that he
was in league with the Murdoch gang, a notorious bunch of killers that, Ben had
said, held half the State of California in thrall? Was the Marshal planning to
murder Jason Blaine – and himself – before Blaine had the chance to testify?
Adam resolved not to turn his back on Heskith until they reached Carson City and
then to wire ahead to Sacramento. He had friends there, good friends who would
tell him how the land lay. Then he could make a reasoned judgement on how to
proceed.
*******
As it
happened, Adam got no chance to put his plan into operation. The next day, at
about mid-morning, Heskith called a halt at a fork in the trail. Adam knew the
place well. The left-hand road led to the Carson River and from there, to Carson
City on the other side. The track to the right climbed into the high country
where it eventually petered out. That way led to a pass through the mountains,
but it was a harsh and lonely path.
From where Heskith
sat, leaning on the horn of his saddle, he could see the road ahead. Adam rode
up alongside him. The storm had done its damage. The road that they were to
follow had totally washed away from the hillside.
Adam sat back in
the saddle. "There’s no chance at all of getting through there. We’ll
have to turn back."
"Turn
back?" The Marshal looked at him in something akin to amazement. "I
don’t think that’s necessary. We have plenty of supplies. We’ll cut across
the hills."
Adam raised his
head and looked in the direction Heskith indicated. The landscape, which, in the
early morning had been steaming as the night’s rainfall boiled away, now lay
beneath an open sky. Every detail was clear and distinct. He eased his butt in
the leather. "That’s pretty rough country up there, Marshal. Those hills
are dry and hard on the horses. It’d be real easy for a man to get lost."
Heskith smiled.
"With you to guide us? I don’t think so Adam. And by cutting out the trip
to Carson City, we can shorten our journey by two or three days."
Jason Blaine looked
over at Adam. "You want to hear what he’s sayin’, Adam. With me all
chained up like this, up in those hills, it’ll just be you and him."
Head on one side,
Heskith looked at him. Amusement danced in his eyes. "Come now, Jason. If I
wanted you dead I could have killed you last night, the two of you, whispering
together, conspiring against the law."
Adam looked at him
sharply, but Heskith only smiled. "Would you care to ride ahead Adam? And
I’ll bring up the rear."
Adam hesitated. He
didn’t like it one little bit. A trip through the dry and barren hills with a
man he didn’t trust was not the deal he had bargained for, and now Gerald
Heskith knew exactly where he stood. What was worse, Heskith would be riding
behind him. But Adam had made a promise. He turned his gelding’s head and
kicked him into motion, pulling the packhorse along with him and taking the
right-hand trail. As he rode by, Jason Blaine caught his eye; the look had a
wealth of meaning: scorn and fear and a warning.
The little party
wound its way into the hills. Adam, still leading the packhorse, allowed his
gelding to pick its own way. A natural horseman, he swayed easily in the saddle,
keeping the animal well balanced and moving forward while all his attention was
focused behind him. He had no doubt at all, now, that every word that Jason
Blaine said was the absolute truth. That burning itch had returned and was
centred squarely right between his shoulder blades. All he could do was wait for
Heskith to make his move. Every time he looked back, the Marshal was right
there, that slight smile still on his lips, leading Jason’s horse.
The trail soon
ceased to be a trail at all, dividing and subdividing into numerous paths that
disappeared among the gullies and outcroppings. Adam headed south and west,
making the best speed he was able and, perhaps, pushing rather harder than he
should, as he climbed ever higher towards the pass, still three full days riding
away.
The arid hills,
with their looming rock formations and occasional patches of live oak and scrub,
had a wild and desolate beauty all their own. Adam was not of a mind to
appreciate it. He was intent only on staying alive.
Towards noon, they
came to a place where a run-off stream had cut a channel deep into the subsoil.
A thin line of thorn bushes grew along either side, and, following the heavy
overnight rain, a trickle of water still ran in the bottom. Adam got down to
fill his canteen, then took off his hat to drink. He heard Heskith shift in the
saddle and realized that he had made the mistake the Marshal had been waiting
for. He straightened slowly, turning, knowing already what he would find. He
looked at the black maw of Heskith’s gun, pointed right at his belly, then
raised his unsurprised eyes to gaze into Heskith’s face.
"So what Jason
said was true," he suggested in a conversational tone. The Marshal smiled,
but the smile was hard and cold. The gun held steady. Adam was sweating. His
Navy revolver was on his hip, but he held his hat in one hand and his canteen in
the other. The lawman had him cold. "Is this where you kill us both?"
"That’s his
plan, Adam," Jason chimed in. His voice was high, rising towards hysteria.
"He’ll say I killed you trying to escape, and then he gunned me
down."
Heskith shot him a
contemptuous look. "An adequate plan, dear Jason, but it lacks any touch of
artistry." He made a slight gesture with the gun, but his aim never wavered
from the region of Adam’s middle. "I have a better idea. I told you,
Adam, that I like a hunt. What finer prey could any man ask for than another
intelligent human being? I rely on you to give the best day’s hunting I’ve
ever had in my life." His smile became lopsided as he backed his horse a
step and gathered the reins of Adam’s gelding. "I’ll leave you the
gun," he said with an air of condescension, "and I’ll give you an
hour’s start."
"That’s very
generous of you," Adam said. "What makes you think that I won’t kill
you if I can?"
"Oh, I’m
sure you will! That’s the whole idea of it. It adds the spice of danger to the
hunt. A tiger’s no longer a tiger if you pull out his claws." The grey
eyes glittered "On the other hand, a little handicap, I think, just to
weight the odds in the hunter’s favour." The gun muzzle moved. Adam
expected to take a bullet, the leg, the arm, somewhere that would hurt him and
cost him blood. He braced himself for the pain. Instead, Heskith turned quickly
and lashed out at Jason Blaine.
Unable to save
himself, the handcuffed man tumbled out of the saddle and landed heavily, the
breath grunting out of him. Adam started forward, but Heskith’s gun was on him
again. "You’re far too altruistic, Adam. You think always too much of the
other man. I’ve noticed that about you right from the start." He glanced
at the sun. "One hour, and then I’ll come after you. I’m sure your
father will be most distressed to learn that you’ve killed one another."
With a final, whimsical lift of the hand, the lawman holstered his gun and rode
back down the trail. He took all the horses with him.
Adam crouched
beside Blaine and rolled him over. The assayer was stunned. There was a bloody
wheal across his temple, and he was winded by the fall from his horse. His hands
were still handcuffed behind him. Adam gave him a drink from the canteen, and
dabbed at the gash with a wetted handkerchief. "Come on, Jason, give me a
sign here." Perhaps he pressed on the wound a little harder than he had
intended. Jason writhed and yelped, but at least he woke up. Adam hauled him
into a sitting position. He threw a glance after Heskith. The Marshal was not in
sight. Adam was in no doubt at all that Heskith would give him the allotted
hour, and then, he could expect no further quarter. He had to get Jason up on
his feet and moving.
The assayer was
still very groggy. "Adam? Where is he? Where did he go?"
"Never mind
that for now. We’ve gotta get out of here." Adam lifted Blaine bodily
onto his feet and held him steady while he swayed and staggered. Heskith had
been about right when he mentioned a handicap, Jason Blaine was about as much
inconvenience as a bullet in the back of the knee; Heskith knew Adam well enough
already to know that he couldn’t leave Jason behind.
Adam studied the
surrounding landscape. Half a mile away, on the far side of the draw, was a
convoluted rock formation. There would be cover there, somewhere to hide,
somewhere from where he could watch the trail – if only he could get Jason
that far.
Somehow, Adam got
Blaine moving in more or less the right direction. They had to get down into the
draw and cross the stream before they could start to climb the hill on the other
side. With Blaine’s hands fastened behind him it was no easy task. Adam had to
push him and pull him and steady him when he stumbled. They were little over
half way there when both of them had to rest. They perched their butts against a
convenient rock while they caught their breath. Jason Blaine’s head was
starting to clear.
"Adam? Where
we goin’."
"We’re going
to hide out in those rocks up ahead."
Blaine craned his
neck for a look. He licked his dry lips. "How many bullets you got in that
gun?"
"Five."
Adam said. "My spare cylinders are still in my saddlebags." He was
wondering if Heskith knew that as well. He allowed his fingers to brush the grip
of the big, Navy Colt. His skill with the gun was about the only chance they
had, unless he could think of a way to get around Heskith. Once again, he
studied the lay of the land. There was no sign of any movement – not yet!
Blaine was starting
to panic. "He’s gonna kill us, Adam! He’s gonna kill us both and then
he’ll go back for Mariette!"
"Mariette?"
Adam looked at him doubtfully. The Marshal might be a lady’s man, but somehow
he didn’t seem the type to take more than a passing interest in another
man’s wife. He was altogether too tied up in his own self-importance.
"What makes you think that?"
"You didn’t
see the way he was looking at her! He was undressing her with his eyes!"
"No, I
didn’t see that." Adam had to admit it. "And Mariette?"
"Oh, she was
flattered. I could tell. Adam, can you give me a drink?"
Adam gave him a
mouthful from the canteen and then put the stopper firmly back in place. He knew
that the water might have to last them sometime. He glanced up at the sun. By
his estimation, their hour was already up. "Come on Jason, we’d better
get moving." With the canteen hung from his shoulder, he helped Blaine up
by the elbow. With the handcuffed man moving ahead of him, Adam began to climb.
The second part of
the ascent was harder than the first. The hillside grew ever steeper, and the
footing was treacherous. The shale and loose, sandy soil had a tendency to slip
away from beneath their boots, and several times one or the other would slide in
a small avalanche of dusty rubble before he regained his balance. By the time
they reached the shelter of the rocks, both men were nearing exhaustion. The
burning sun was taking its toll; their clothes clung damply to their bodies and
the sweat was dripping from Adam’s jaw.
He was disappointed
in the cover the rocks provided. A path wound in among the boulders and took a
sharp turn right before ending abruptly in a blind alley, a trap that Adam
wasn’t about to walk into. He had hoped that there would be more places for a
man to hide and somewhere to give him a vantage point above the path that he was
sure Heskith would use.
He paused to look
back along they way they had come. Something was moving down there, something
bright catching the sunlight. Adam had a sudden premonition. He put a hand on
Blaine’s back and pushed, sending him sprawling face down in the dirt. Adam
dived after him, hitting the ground in the same moment that he heard the retort
of the distant rifle. Something snagged hard at his shoulder and he felt wetness
spreading across his side. Looking down, he found that the canteen was neatly
holed. The bullet had gone in one side and out the other, spilling all their
water; it had missed his chest by less than an inch.
In the unearthly
silence that followed the sound of the gun, Adam heard clearly the metallic
sound of another shell being levered into the chamber. Heskith had one of the
new, repeating rifles. Adam remembered, irrelevantly, that Joe had wanted one
for his next birthday. He wondered if he would be there to see it. Certainly not
if Heskith had his way. Cautiously he raised his head. Heskith sent another
round whistling past his ear to bounce, shrieking, off the rock behind him. Adam
ducked quickly, gritting his teeth. Once again came that unmistakable sound of a
reload. Heskith was trying to pick him off from a distance. With Adam dead,
Jason Blaine would be easy prey for the lawman. He urged Blaine to crawl into
the scant shelter of the rocks, scrambling in after him.
Flat on his face in
the dirt, Blaine was gibbering with fear. "What we gonna do, Adam? What we
gonna do?"
"For a start,
we’re not going to panic." Adam spoke harshly, hoping the naked brutality
in his tone would help the other man pull himself together. Blaine was just
about frightened enough to get up on his feet and go running back down the
hillside into Heskith’s gun. Sure enough, Blaine drew a breath and steadied
himself.
Adam grabbed the
assayer by the collar and by the belt of his pants, hoisting him bodily further
into the cover of the rocks. Cautiously, he peered ‘round the side of a
boulder. Down below he saw a shadow moving as Heskith changed his position. Adam
drew his gun and pulled back the hammer.
"Adam?"
Jason Blaine hissed at him. "What are you doing?"
Adam chose to
ignore him. He fired a shot in Heskith’s direction. He saw the Marshal scuttle
for cover even though the ball fell a long way short. He waited a long moment,
then cocked the gun and fired again.
Blaine stared at
him as if he’s gone mad. "That’s two shots you’ve wasted, Adam!
Heskith’s well out of range of a six-gun. And now he knows where we are."
"I know
it." Adam put the Colt back in his holster. "That was the general
idea." He stole another quick look around the rock. Heskith was still lying
low. Adam hauled Blaine back onto his feet. "Heskith’ll come up here
after us. By then, you and I aren’t going to be here."
Blaine gaped at him
over his shoulder as Adam propelled him forward with a hand on his arm. Adam
didn’t have time to explain his plan. Heskith would already be picking his way
up the hillside, dodging from rock to rock, keeping his head down, wondering why
no more firing came from above.
He abandoned the
ruined canteen in the rocks. From now on, they would be without water. With
Blaine stumbling ahead of him, he made his way around the outcropping and
started back down the hill.
The path he
selected was well out of sight of the route that Heskith was taking. He
cautioned Blaine to tread carefully and keep silent. He wanted the lawman to
think they were still hiding out in the rocks.
The afternoon sun
grew steadily hotter, beating down without mercy from the brass-lined bowl of
the sky. The heat shimmered up from the shale, making the landscape waver. They
were hot and thirsty and footsore; high-heeled riding boots were not made for
climbing. There was no shelter and no time to rest. Adam drove Blaine
relentlessly. By the time they got back to the stream in the draw, both men were
gasping for breath. Jason Blaine slid to his knees in the water.
"Adam, I’ve
got to drink!"
Adam cursed and
hauled him up by the collar. "Damn you, Jason! We don’t have time for
that!"
Adam scanned the
surrounding terrain. He didn’t see anything moving. "Come on, Jason,
let’s get going. We’ve got to find where Heskith left the horses before he
discovers we’re not in those rocks."
Blaine gaped at him
in amazement. "You mean we’ve given him the slip?"
"I certainly
hope so." Adam dragged Blaine back to his feet. "If we can get to the
horses before he does, we can get back to Virginia City – get some men out
here to take him prisoner."
"You mean it,
Adam? I can go home?"
Adam didn’t have
time to explain any further. He boosted Blaine from behind to help him out of
the draw and then climbed up after him. Now they were back about where they’d
started.
It was easy enough
to track the horses. Heskith hadn’t bothered to cover his tracks, and the
iron-shod hooves had left obvious signs in the trail. Adam was anxious. Blaine
had slowed him up too much, and he had taken far too long. The hillside behind
him was much too quiet, and he had no idea where Heskith might be. By Adam’s
reckoning, he should be right on their tail… He spent a lot of his time
looking over his shoulder while Blaine went on in front.
"Adam, I found
them!" Blaine’s shout made him pay attention. All four horses stood
together in an open space alongside the path. Jason Blaine broke into a
shambling run. Adam looked after him, then back down the trail. It dawned on
him, suddenly, exactly what the lawman had done.
"Jason,
no!" His shout came too late. A high-powered gun barked sharply from in
amongst the rocks. The horses threw up their heads and began to dance. Adam saw
Blaine stagger and start to fall. His own Colt leapt into his hand, and he fired
a snapped shot at the Marshal’s head. Heskith ducked back as rock splinters
peppered his face.
Jason Blaine was
writhing with pain. There was blood flowering brightly on the front of his
shirt. Without thinking of his own peril, Adam dashed forward and grabbed at his
arm. "Get on your feet!"
"Adam! I’m
shot!"
"If you
don’t run, you’re gonna be dead!"
Adam shoved and
hustled Blaine back to the shelter of a single boulder, the only one within
reach. Heskith stuck out his head once more. Adam shot at it but the ball went
wide. He figured that left him just one bullet more. He dove into cover
alongside Blaine and struggled to get his breath.
"Clever,
Adam," Heskith called, "But not quite clever enough."
Adam ground his
teeth together. He’d heard about enough of Heskith’s voice.
"I told you
once," Heskith went on, "that I’d hunted tigers in India. What you
do is tie up a goat and wait. Sooner or later, the tiger comes to you."
Cursing himself for
all sorts of a fool, Adam realized that he’d walked right into Heskith’s
trap. The Marshal had only pretended to climb the hillside, going just far
enough for Adam to think his own plan had worked, then doubling back over his
own tracks and laying in wait beside the horses. Adam looked all around him for
some way to get above and behind the lawman. With only one shot left he had to
make it count. Heskith had chosen his spot well. He was safe and secure in his
niche in the rocks. Adam couldn’t see any way to get to him.
"Adam? You
hear me, Adam?" Heskith was intent on talking. "I have to tell you,
it’s been an experience to know you. A man of your intelligence is a rare and
precious find." Adam closed his ears to Heskith’s apparently endless
chatter and took a look at Blaine’s wound. It wasn’t serious. Jason Blaine
whimpered softly. The patch of blood was spreading. It was as plain as could be
that the assayer wasn’t going very far, and he wasn’t going fast. Heskith
had the pair of them well and truly pinned down.
Adam bent down and
picked up a fist-sized rock. He weighed it in his hand. It was in his mind to
throw it in the hope of making Heskith think he was somewhere else and drawing
him into the open. It wasn’t a new trick by any means, but it had been known
to work.
"Heskith!
Gerald Heskith! Git out here an’ show yorsel’" The voice was a
bull-like bellow and it came from back down the trail. Adam stuck out his head
to see. The grizzled old man who stood in the path cast a long shadow over the
earth. Adam knew exactly who the man was.
Afraid of being
caught in the crossfire, Heskith emerged from the rocks. "Who are
you?"
"The Name’s
Clavenger." The old man said. "Kinda reckon you know it. You’re the
man that killed my boys, an’ I’m here ta return the favour."
Heskith stepped
into the trail, bringing the long gun ‘round. Gideon Clavenger reached for the
gun on his hip. Heskith fired. Clavenger staggered backwards, falling. Heskith
pumped another round into the chamber.
Adam stepped out of
his hiding place. His mouth was dry and the sweat trickled down the groove of
his spine. Heskith was looking the other way, preparing to finish Clavenger off.
No matter what the provocation, Adam wouldn’t shoot any man in the back.
"Heskith."
Heskith turned, the
barrel of the rifle swinging, His finger tightened on the trigger. Adam drew the
Navy Colt and fired straight from the hip.
The ball hit
Heskith high in the chest and knocked him over backwards. He didn’t try to get
up. Adam holstered the empty gun and walked over, hunkering down beside the
lawman. He felt just the slightest tinge of regret. Whatever else the lawman had
been, he was the man who had saved his life. "I wish you hadn’t tried it,
Heskith."
Heskith struggled
to see him. The life was already draining out of his face, the light from out of
his eyes. "Adam?" He couldn’t see very clearly, but he knew the
cowboy was there. "I s’pose I knew all along that this would happen some
day." The grey eyes focused on the sky. "I never dreamed that Gerald
Heskith would ever be defeated by emotion."
Adam had to be
honest. "I can’t believe you ever had any," he said evenly.
Heskith smiled.
"Oh, yes. I was in love, you know? I was in love with Gerald Heskith."
Gerald Heskith died.
*******
"I
don’t need no help from no Goddamned Cartwright!" Gideon Clavenger
snarled in Adam’s face.
"Well, at
least let me put you up on your horse."
Clavenger shrugged
off the helping hand and clambered into the saddle. With his arm tied up in a
makeshift sling, he needed the boost that Adam gave him from behind, but he
didn’t appreciate it all that much.
Adam handed him his
rein. "You gonna be all right?"
"I’ve had a
whole lot worse than this." Clavenger settled himself in the leather.
"I’ll take the trouble ta tell your Pa what’s happened up here."
"I’d
appreciate that."
Clavenger nodded
and turned his horse’s head and kicked it into motion. Adam watched him ride
down the trail and shook his head. The rifle bullet had passed clean through the
old man’s shoulder, glancing off bone as it went. He made a mental note to
remind Joe to be extra careful if he got his wish and was given one of those
guns. They sure made a mess of a man. Clavenger had lost a lot of blood, but he
was as tough as horseshoe nails. Adam had no doubt at all that he’d make it
home. He turned to Jason Blaine, already sitting up on his horse. "And how
about you?"
"I’m gonna
be all right, Adam." Blaine’s face was as white as the torn up linen Adam
had used to bind his wound. "At least, I’m gonna live to stand
trial."
"And then
you’ll come back to Virginia City?" Adam was thinking of Mariette.
Blaine gave him a
wry grin. "Just as soon as they’ll let me.
Adam stepped into his saddle and turned his gelding’s head towards the high pass through the mountains and the city of Sacramento.
Potters Bar
2001.
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