CHAPTER 57
“Did you see what was behind that ridge the man kept talking about?” Louis asked as the four men rode back toward the Sugarloaf.
“Just a big ol’ mountain,” said Pearlie.
Louis nodded. “When I was at a sanitarium in Switzerland, I met a fellow patient named Horst von Wolffstricker. He was a German who was there because his lungs had been damaged by the thin air at great altitudes. He was a mountain climber, you see. He ascended the Matterhorn, the Zugspitze, and plenty of other peaks in Europe, but it wrecked his health. Still, he talked about mountaineering all the time. I remembered that back there, and it made me think that if we could climb that mountain from the other side and then descend the face behind those men—”
“You’re not going to be doing any of that,” Smoke said. “Your heart wouldn’t be up to it.”
Louis nodded and said, “I know. Plus those outlaws will be expecting me to deliver the ransom money. But they’ll be watching me, not the mountain. That would give whoever makes the climb down the chance to take them by surprise.”
“That could be dangerous for Brad,” Smoke pointed out.
“I know. The safest thing would be to just pay the ransom and trust them to keep their word.” Louis paused. “I can’t bring myself to do either of those two things.”
“It’s a big risk all the way around.” Smoke looked at Pearlie and Monte Carson. “What do you fellas think?”
“This is a family matter, Smoke,” said Monte. “We’ll back you and Louis in whatever you decide.”
“I hate to say it,” Pearlie put in, “but I ain’t sure either Monte or me is up to clamberin’ around over them mountains, though. We got a few too many miles on us for somethin’ like that.”
Smoke shook his head. “I know. I’ll have to ask for volunteers among the hands who are still on the ranch.” He smiled. “I wish some of those old-timers Preacher and I used to call on for help were still around. Those old fur trappers were as sure-footed as mountain goats. They’ve all passed on, though, the ones who weren’t killed in some scrape or another years ago.”
A short time later, they encountered Magruder, Walker, and the members of the Sugarloaf crew who had started out from the ranch behind them. The men sat and listened as Smoke explained the situation, muttering angrily when he came to the threats against Brad’s life. Their interest grew when he went over the rudimentary plan to foil the kidnappers’ scheme.
“Count me in, Smoke,” Ed Magruder volunteered without hesitation. “I was born and raised in Arkansas, and I was scramblin’ up and down those Ozarks almost before I could walk.”
“I’m from the Missouri Ozarks, myself,” said Smoke, “so I know what you mean.”
Several other men spoke up, claiming that they also had experience at mountain climbing, from the Appalachians and the Great Smoky Mountains to the Tetons and the Sierra Nevadas. Smoke promised to consider all of them, although he didn’t plan to decide on the final group until they were back at the Sugarloaf.
“The good thing,” said Louis, “is that they’ve given us two days to deliver the ransom. It’s going to take time to figure out the details of the plan, decide on the route, and make the actual climb. You’ll need to be at the peak by tomorrow evening, so you can make the descent the next morning, before I ride up there with the ransom money at midday. Or what they believe is the ransom money, at any rate.”
“You ain’t takin’ the loot for real?” asked Pearlie.
Louis looked at Smoke, who waited for him to make the decision. After a moment, Louis said, “No. The bags I take up there will be stuffed with blank paper instead of twenty-dollar bills. I will not pay those animals for stealing my son and killing my friends.”
Smoke grunted. “That’s the way I feel about it, too. Let’s get back to the ranch and figure out the rest of this.”
* * *
Melanie wasn’t comforted much by the news the men had to tell her when they returned to the Sugarloaf late that afternoon, but Sally had had a calming influence on her. Her face was still pale and drawn from worry and strain as Louis explained the plan to her. When he finished, she said, “Two days?”
He nodded. “I’m afraid so. Those were the terms they gave us, and we had to agree, or at least pretend to. I suppose they thought it would take that long to get together a quarter of a million dollars in cash.”
“It would,” Smoke said, “if we were actually giving them that money.”
“But you’re going to trick them instead, hit them from behind, and rescue Brad,” said Sally.
“That’s right.”
“You’re playing games with my son’s life,” Melanie said.
“Believe me, nobody’s playing games,” Smoke told her. “This is actually the best chance we have of getting Brad back safe and sound.”
“But if you pay them, they’ll let him go!”
Louis said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t believe that’s the case. By now Brad has seen their faces and probably heard some of their names. He can identify them. They won’t want to leave him behind and run the risk of him doing that.” He nodded toward Smoke. “They’re afraid of my father, but they’ll be afraid of the law, as well. It’s a risk for them either way.”
Monte Carson said to Melanie, “For what it’s worth, ma’am, I’ve dealt with a lot of lawbreakers over the years, and I agree with Smoke and Louis. Brad’s a danger to them whether he lives or dies, so why not go ahead and do the simpler thing?”
“By killing him,” Melanie said.
“Well . . . ye ah.”
She drew in a deep, shudder y breath and looked around at the group gathered in the parlor of the Sugarloaf ranch house. “It sounds like you have to go ahead with this plan, then. But please . . . please do everything in your power to bring Bradley back safely to me.”
Louis was sitting beside her. He took her right hand in both of his and said, “Of course we will, darling.”
“I just wish he didn’t have to remain a prisoner of those terrible men for two more days!”
“If I know that boy,” Smoke said, “he’s doing his best to make an adventure of it.”
* * *
The thought that Smoke wouldn’t come to rescue him never entered Brad’s mind. It was just a matter of time before he showed up with a blazing Colt in each hand, spewing death to the evil men who had taken him away from the ranch. It would be just like the scenes in the yellow-backed dime novels Brad had read, some of which had actually been about Smoke, although he had told Brad that they were all made up by drunken scribblers who didn’t have any idea what they were talking about.
Maybe some of the so-called facts were made up, but Brad knew that didn’t matter. Smoke was still a hero, and he would save the day.
The main thing Smoke would want him to do was to stay calm. Brad made a real effort to do that. He wasn’t a baby anymore. He couldn’t curl up in a ball and cry. He had seen bad men before, had been in danger. He and his mother had survived that disastrous stagecoach trip through the Sierra Nevada Mountains the previous Christmas. As long as a man didn’t panic and kept his wits about him, he had a chance.
“Here ya go, kid.” The massive man called Butler dropped a tin plate with some bacon and beans on it in front of Brad, who sat with his back propped against a tree trunk at the edge of the firelight. One of the outlaws stood nearby with a rifle, guarding him.
“How am I supposed to eat it?” Brad asked. “My hands are tied behind me.”
Butler scratched his jaw, which stuck out like a slab of rock. Then he grinned and said, “Bend over and eat it like a dog.”
“I can’t do that, either. I’m tried to the tree, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Well, I’ll untie your hands for now, but I’m gonna leave the rope around your chest that’s holdin’ you to the tree. Don’t try nothin’, or you’ll get paddled like the little brat you are.”
“I’m not afraid of a paddling.”
“You better be,” Butler said with a threatening scowl.
A swat from one of the outlaw’s huge hands could break bone, thought Brad, so he really didn’t want a paddling. But he wasn’t going to give any of these men the satisfaction of knowing that he was scared.
Butler’s thick, sausagelike fingers struggled to untie the ropes around Brad’s wrists. He finally got the other outlaw to do it. Brad was able to pick up the plate. He had to eat with his fingers, but he managed and then licked the plate clean. When he was finished, Butler gave him a drink of water from a canteen.
“You’re too young for coffee or whiskey,” Butler jeered. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll live long enough to try both. But I wouldn’t count on it.”
“I’ll live long enough,” Brad said.
“You sound mighty sure of that.”
“Smoke Jensen will see to it. He’ll ride in here and kill—” The words slipped out of Brad’s mouth before he could rein them in.
One of the outlaws who was close enough to hear laughed. Brad had heard some of the others call him Sam. He was an older man who seemed to be the leader of the gang.
Sam came over to stand in front of Brad and sneer down at him. “You’ve got a lot of faith in Smoke Jensen, don’t you, kid? Well, you might be interested to know that we’ve already talked to Jensen, and he’s going to give us everything we want.”
Brad shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true. He’s going to pay the ransom. It was your stepfather’s idea, but Jensen went along with it.”
Brad’s eyes widened. “My stepfather? Louis is back?” That was the first he had heard of that. He knew that his mother and Louis were supposed to have returned to the Sugarloaf the day before but had been delayed for some reason. If Louis was there, too, and was going to help Smoke rescue him . . .
Of course, that might be too much for Louis because of his health, Brad reminded himself. Still, just knowing that Louis was around made him feel a little better. Even though he wasn’t much of a fighter, Louis was really smart. If there was a way to turn the tables on the outlaws, Smoke and Louis would figure it out.
Brad was about to say that when he realized that such bravado might not be a good idea. Sam and all the others seemed to believe that they had already won, that the ransom money was as good as theirs and all they had to do was wait for it to be delivered. Well, let them go on thinking that, Brad told himself. They would be more surprised when their evil scheme blew up in their faces.
Brad’s lower lip trembled. He blinked his eyes rapidly until tears began to flow in them. His face scrunched up as he started to cr y.
“That’s right, kid, your pa’s back, but you know he’s not going to be able to help you. That’s why you’re scared, isn’t it?”
“P-Please,” Brad stammered. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Just do as you’re told. Maybe you’ll make it through this alive . . . but don’t count on it.”
The boss outlaw called Sam turned and walked away. Brad continued to sob as he slumped against the tree.
But even as he did, his eyes flicked up in a hooded glance at the man’s back. Just you wait, mister, Brad told himself. We’ll see who makes it through this alive . . . and who doesn’t.