Clay Nash 5 by Brett Waring

Author:Brett Waring
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Seven – Gunsmoke Trail

By the time it was full daylight, Jim Hume had arrived with a half-dozen soldiers under a tobacco-chewing sergeant named Larch.

“When the stage didn’t show, and with the Garths as passengers, we couldn’t afford to wait and see what had happened,” the Chief of Detectives told Nash and the Summers’ in the big dining room of the station. The soldiers were busy wolfing the breakfast Mary had whipped up for them. “We found the stage and the dead folk out in the foothills. Buried ’em, got the rest of the company under Lieutenant Masters on the search and then came on here. Didn’t think you’d know about it.”

“They left Mrs. McLean alive to bring back the ultimatum,” Nash said grimly. “Either we close down or the Garths get killed off. Slowly. You’ve got two days, Jim.”

“I’ll recommend complete closure, of course,” Hume said without hesitation. “But I figure we should use those two days scouting the hills for whatever sign we can pick up.”

“It’s dangerous, with an army of men crawling all over the place,” Nash pointed out. “If the troops get anywhere near to where the Garths are being held the outlaws will kill ’em.”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take, Clay,” Hume said, staring at him levelly. “I can’t see the Garths being turned loose, whatever we do, but we have to at least go through the motions of complying with the outlaws’ demands to give them as long as possible.”

“One man in there could do more than a platoon of soldiers, Jim,” Nash insisted.

Hume smiled crookedly. “You mean yourself, of course.”

Nash nodded. “I’m pretty sure that where I picked up old Sourdough Donner is somewhere close to their hideout, whoever these hombres are. They spotted him, or their guard did, and they shot him off the cliff without warning ... I aim to start in that area.”

“We can all start in that area,” Hume suggested and frowned when Nash shook his head vigorously.

He got slowly to his feet. “No, Jim. I know where it is, you don’t, and I don’t aim to tell you.”

“Clay ...” Hume said warningly.

“No, damn it! I’m doing this my way! I like the Garths.” He flicked his eyes to Mary’s face. “Both of ’em. They were good to me down in Texas. I don’t mind riskin’ my neck to try and save them, but I’m not goin’ in there at the head of a whole damn army.”

Hume’s face darkened. He stood, too, fists clenched against the table edge, his weight on his arms, glaring. “Clay, you are still under my orders. And you know how important the Garths are. He’s a director of Wells Fargo, and a rising politician. If we don’t make an all-out effort to save him, the whole company could topple. In the light of that, I’m ordering you to tell me where you found Sourdough Donner.”

The room was very quiet and all eyes were turned to Nash as he stood there defiantly. “Can’t do it, Jim.

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