“It looks legal to me,” Mason said as he flipped through the papers that Seth had brought him.
The three of them were sitting at the dining room table once again. Only this time, they were on the same side so they could all get a look at those papers.
“Do you even know what you’re looking at?” Allison asked.
Mason held up each page so he could examine them up close. “I’ve been in more than a few card games where a man has nothing left to bet besides deeds to some piece of land, a mining claim, or any number of things that require legal documents. While I’m no lawyer, let’s just say it’s in my best interest to be able to spot a forgery. This seal, the stamps here by the signatures, it all looks proper to me.”
“Of course it’s proper!” Seth barked. “I said it was, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but . . .” Instead of insulting his host, Mason stopped short and pretended to have his interest captured by some speck on the page in front of him.
Allison, on the other hand, wasn’t as concerned about putting the old man’s nose out of joint. “You say a lot of things, Papa,” she said to Seth while rubbing his arm.
“I suppose so,” Seth replied. “But I’d like to hear what Greeley has to say when he gets called out by Lazenby.”
“Called out for what?” Allison asked.
“He must have been dodging inspections somehow or other if that boat is still on the water with him as its owner,” the old man said. “There’s no shortage of crooked government men, to be certain, but if what this fella here says is true, then Greeley’s got to be nearby. Lazenby is here also and he’s been on a real tear!”
Mason looked up from the ownership papers. “How so?”
“Oscar Lazenby’s been like a man possessed,” Seth said. “I still talk to plenty of men who used to do business with me when I was selling boats and such, and they’ve been grousing to high heaven about that man and the bureau that pays him. Business ain’t like it used to be when a man could get away with an infraction or two here or there. Now boats are all getting inspected and heavy fines are being levied.”
“It’s true,” Allison said. “Over the last week, I’ve seen boats forced to drop anchor for hours or even days while they’re inspected. Their captain or some of the crew come here because we’re still friendly with a lot of those men.”
“And they say things with Lazenby have gotten bad?” Mason asked.
“Sounds to me like the man’s just doing his job, but—”
“But nothin’!” Seth said. “Free trade is what this country was built upon, and nobody owns the damn river!”
“I think some men in Washington would have something to say about that, Papa.”
“And I think I know exactly what’s been going on here!” Mason said. “I’ve been thinking it over, but still had some kinks to iron out. Now it all makes sense. Allison, where’s your mother?”
“She’s upstairs in bed.”
“Can she be moved?”
“No one’s moving my wife!” Seth bellowed.
Calming her father with a touch from a gentle hand, Allison told Mason, “She’s too sick to go anywhere.”
“Then what about the room she’s in?” Mason asked. “Can the door be locked so the two of you can remain safe inside?”
Allison nodded.
Scowling at Mason, Seth said, “I don’t want no bloodshed in my home.”
“I know, sir, and it wasn’t my intention to bring any trouble to you. That may be unavoidable, though.”
“Papa, if there’s to be trouble anyway, I’d rather take a stand here than just wait for the next man to come along. We both knew Greeley would come back someday.”
Seth’s face twisted into a distasteful grimace. “You feed a mangy dog once and it’ll always come skulking back around for scraps. I just don’t like the notion of making a stand so close to my kin.”
“That’s why I’d hoped to move the women from here,” Mason said. “Is there anyone else in the house besides the four of us?”
“No.”
“Then it seems this is how . . . Wait. What about the house next door?”
“That’s where I used to run my businesses,” Seth said. “Ain’t had much use for it lately.”
“How do you plan on getting Greeley or anyone else to show up there?” Allison asked.
“Greeley is after something, and this,” Mason said while holding up the ownership papers, “has got to be it. He won’t be happy about it, but he’ll come if it means getting what he wants.”
“I don’t give a damn about whether that thieving snake is happy about anything,” Seth said. “But if he’s got gunmen working for him, he’ll probably bring them along.”
“Which is why you’re going to go to Oscar Lazenby and bring him here,” Mason said. “He’s probably got some deputies or someone like that working with him, right?”
Seth had to think about it for a few seconds, but he eventually nodded. “I suppose he always did bring some young fellas with him whenever he boarded a vessel to make an inspection.”
“He does,” Allison added. “I’ve seen him with the marshal when they’ve been stopping those boats here lately.”
“Good,” Mason said with building excitement. “Seth can tell Lazenby what’s going on and bring as much help as he can back here. Allison, you lock yourself in your mother’s room where you’ll both be safe. Try to keep quiet. We’ll pass it off as if the two of you got away. There’s no reason Greeley would know about your mother being bedridden.”
“Not unless he or one of his men comes upstairs to have a look for themselves,” Allison said nervously.
“I’m not about to let that happen,” Mason said. “I know this isn’t ideal and I hate to put good folks like you in the line of fire, but—”
“But nothin’,” Seth said with much less venom than the last time he’d used those words. “Greeley already knows where I am, so it ain’t like we was hiding in the first place. Besides, I’ve been itching to have a word with that snake ever since he floated away in my boat. Maybe I should stay here with you to greet him.”
“No,” Mason said sternly. “We’ll stick to the plan. If this has any chance of working, we’ll need reinforcements, and Oscar Lazenby is just the man for that job.”
Reluctantly Seth agreed.
“All right, then,” Mason said. “It’s settled. Allison, you take that shotgun to use in case anyone makes it upstairs to get to you or your mother. Are there any other weapons in the house?”
“I’ve got a hunting rifle,” she said.
Remembering the rifle propped behind her rocker on the porch, Mason nodded. “Good. Anything else?”
“No.”
“That’ll have to do.”
“And what if you get yourself killed?” Allison asked.
Mason shrugged and simply replied, “I won’t.”
“This is how it’s gotta be,” the old man said as if he’d been the one to come up with the plan in the first place. He handed her the shotgun. “Just let the men do their work and this’ll all be over soon.”
* * *
Mason stood at the end of the dock protruding from Seth Borden’s property, watching a plume of smoke work its way above the trees to inch toward the Borden place. It stopped before rounding the bend, bringing the Jack most of the way to the spot of the pickup. He checked his watch yet again and snapped it shut to wait for the promised meeting. Finally, and only slightly behind schedule, another one of the Jack’s rowboats came along. There were two men in pearl gray suits in the small craft, and thanks to the muscle behind the oars, they arrived at the little dock in no time at all.
“You were supposed to bring two women along,” the first overman in the boat said. “Where are they?”
“They’re in the small house,” Mason replied.
“Go get them.”
“How about you go back and get Mr. Greeley instead?”
“You really want to start giving orders? Just because you’ve got those guns on you doesn’t give you any sort of edge. You even twitch toward them pistols and we’ll burn you down.”
“I realize that,” Mason said.
“And if you make any other moves we don’t much like, your lady friend waiting for you on the Jack will have a real bad night.”
Mason’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. Mr. Greeley isn’t stupid. He knows you and Maggie have been keeping company and can get to her anytime he wants. She’ll be left alone so long as we’ve got them two women you were supposed to get.”
“I know what this is about. I can save Greeley some time if he comes back here himself. Tell him that’s the only way he’s getting his hands on the papers he’s after.”
“What papers?” the overman asked.
Mason shook his head. “I did my part. All I’m changing is the spot where those ladies are being kept. I’ll explain myself further but only to Greeley.”
“You don’t give orders around here.”
“And you don’t know where I put those papers. Kill me and you’re going to be the one to row back to Greeley and tell him he’ll just have to take his chances on his own with those government men. Don’t try to tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about, because I can already see in your eyes that you do.”
That struck a nerve with the overmen. One looked to the other and then said, “Fine. I’m staying here with you and he’ll go get Greeley. It ain’t like he’s got far to go.”
“That’s the spirit,” Mason said.
The first overman climbed out of the boat and onto the dock. As soon as his boots hit the wooden slats, the second gunman started rowing away. There wasn’t much of a current and it moved in the overman’s favor. The rowboat made swift progress going downstream.
“Which house is it?” the remaining overman asked.
“The smaller one,” Mason said while pointing in that direction. The larger house was darkened now and the smaller structure had a few lanterns burning inside its first-floor rooms. When he turned around, Mason was being held at gunpoint. He hadn’t even heard the overman draw.
“Drop the guns,” the overman said. “Slowly.”
Having already gone through the motions several times by now, Mason went through them again and disarmed himself quickly. Both Remingtons hit the dirt near his feet, followed by the knife.
“Move,” the overman demanded. As soon as Mason turned and walked toward the smaller house, the overman scooped up the pistols and kicked the knife into the grass away from the dock.
It was a short walk to the small house, and when they got there, the overman stepped to one side so he wasn’t in line with the door or windows. “You got anyone waiting in there and you die first,” he warned.
“I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible,” Mason replied.
“Then you should’ve brought them hostages to the dock like you were supposed to.”
“One of them is bedridden,” Mason explained. “And Seth Borden himself made arrangements to send those papers to the law if he didn’t check in with his attorney every so often. Anything happens to him and we all go to jail.”
“Yeah,” the overman said. “We’ll see about that.”
Mason was afraid of this. Getting Greeley to step foot off the Jack was a long shot, but it was worth a try. When he saw the deadly confidence on the overman’s face combined with the tone of his voice, Mason knew that rowboat was coming back with reinforcements and Cam Greeley wouldn’t be among them.
Approaching the front door of the smaller house, Mason looked over to the man beside him and asked, “What’s your name?”
“Huh?”
“Your name. You know my name and I know Greeley’s name. All I know about you men in the gray suits is that you’re overmen.”
“What more do you need?”
Mason opened the door. “Just being sociable.”
“Pete,” he grunted.
“There. That was easy.”
Mason stepped inside first, followed by Pete. The lanterns that had cast their light upon the windows were placed on small tables here and there. Apart from those tables and a few chairs covered in sheets, there were no other furnishings to be found.
“Where are they?” Pete asked.
“In the kitchen. Tied to the stove.”
Pete held his pistol at hip level and used it to motion in that direction. “Go on, then.”
Mason strode through the house and was about to push open the kitchen door when Pete said, “Stop right there.”
“Yes?”
“You got anything hidden in there,” Pete warned, “and you’ll get a bullet through the knee.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Mason said.
“So open the door!”
Mason pushed the door open halfway. He must not have been moving fast enough, because Pete lunged forward and kicked him in the stomach. When Mason let out a grunting breath, he was shoved against the wall next to the door. His back hit and his feet slipped out from under him, causing him to land heavily on his rump.
Moving cautiously past him, Pete shoved the door the rest of the way open while keeping his gun aimed at Mason. “What kind of fool do you take me for?” he snarled after looking into the kitchen. “There’s nobody in there.”
“Really?”
“And lookee here,” Pete said as he found the hunting rifle that Mason had propped against a table.
When Pete leaned in to grab the rifle, Mason bent his left arm sharply. The holdout device buckled to that arm extended smoothly, but instead of a high card, the clamshell was clamped around his two-shot derringer. Although the modifications Mason had made to the device allowed it to hide the gun up his sleeve, he hadn’t had enough time to perfect it. As soon as the metallic arm was fully extended, the derringer slipped from the clamshell and clattered to the floor.
The overman turned around, but couldn’t move as smoothly as he normally would since he was wedged halfway between the kitchen door and its frame. Pete still had his pistol aimed in Mason’s direction and he fired a quick shot. Because Mason needed to duck down to pick up the derringer, the bullet punched into the wall above him.
Mason’s hand found the derringer and he flopped onto his side to present an even smaller target. Before Pete could fire again, however, Mason pulled his trigger. The derringer popped once, hitting Pete in the right shoulder and causing him to stagger away from the door. Mason took better aim and sent his second round into Pete’s chest.
The overman hacked up a breath and leaned against a wall for support. He tried to lift his pistol, but his strength was fading thanks to the two small-caliber rounds lodged in him.
Mason jumped to his feet and hurried past the overman to grab the hunting rifle. “You can sit there and wait for someone to get you some medical attention,” he said, “or you can do something stupid.”
Pete hacked up one more breath before using his last bit of strength to lift his pistol and point it at Mason. The hunting rifle spat its round into him long before Pete could take his shot. The rifle had much more kick than the derringer and dropped Pete to the floor.
Mason set the rifle down and took the dead overman’s pistol. The next thing he did was pull up his sleeve and remove the holdout device. If Pete had searched him any differently than the overmen usually did, he might have found the device strapped to Mason’s arm. In fact, many factors could have spelled disaster for him, but luck had nothing to do with it. Observation, planning, and patience were the keys. Now those familiar allies just had to stay with him a little while longer.
He pulled off his boot and reached inside for one last weapon he’d smuggled off the Delta Jack. Mason tucked that weapon into his pocket, pulled on his boot, and went outside to collect his guns. Only then was he prepared for the final hand to be dealt.