False Claims at the Little Stephen Mine by Stephen Bly

Author:Stephen Bly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: friendships, strong women, career changes, business woman, faith building, hero adventure, western horses, past memories, lawmen outlaws, trail justice
Publisher: Bly Books

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By evening, the Little Stephen looked more like a hospital than a gold mine. Cheney lay on a rough-hewn wooden bed that neither Brannon nor Fletcher had yet used. The president of Southern Colorado Mining Corporation hung to life by the thinnest of threads and they took turns sitting by him. Trevor sulked around camp, keeping to himself. Whatever financially lucrative deal he established would be lost if Cheney died.

Velvet Wendell came to and couldn’t remember firing the shotgun. She saw the signal from the marshal and the next thing she woke up in front of the cabin with unshaven Fletcher staring into her eyes.

At first, they took the hogtied Waldo Vance into the mine to incarcerate him, but his screams and curses magnified and echoed through the tunnel. So, they tied him to the log barrier at the side of the mine and gagged him with his white handkerchief.

The others gathered around the campfire in the bitter night air under a moonless sky with stars that looked close enough to touch.

“Brannon,” Marshal Rosser said, “Giles and me will be headin’ out in the morning. We’ll take Vance with us and lock him up in Denver. But that doesn’t settle up the claim.”

“We discovered the gold, developed the mine, and filed papers on it,” Brannon said. “As I see it, the only claim Cheney has is if he ever put in a railroad up to Lake City. You and I know that won’t happen until Chief Ouray agrees to move the Utes south. So I say the mine should remain ours until the courts can prove it otherwise.”

“I have a tendency to agree with you, son, but don’t underestimate the legal power of a man like Cheney. Local laws, state regulations, even federal mandates can get brushed aside when men with power force the issue. As far as I’m concerned, you won’t be seeing me up here again. Got no time for it. But Cheney’s likely to bring the army with him next time. Sometimes you just cain’t beat ’em.”

“I can. I’m right this time, and I know it.”

“But right don’t always win in this world.”

“You surely don’t believe that, Marshal. What’s right has got to win. It’s what validates our position. Without that, we’d both be fools.”

“But sometimes, Brannon, there’s a mighty slick grip.”

“You notify Cheney’s people about his condition. Has he got kin?”

“A nephew back east, I believe.”

“No wife or kids or anything?”

“Nope. Just married to his job and making money.”

“He needs medical attention.”

“Maybe you could take him into Tres Casas. It’s a cinch he can’t make it back to Denver,” the marshal added.

“It’s a rough ride across the mountains. I’m not sure he’d live through it. But we’ve got the horses. I suppose we could swing a stretcher between a couple cayuses.”

“Ain’t nobody taking Cheney anywhere without me,” Trevor said. “I’ve got a bigger stake in keeping him alive than any of you.”

“You’re right about that,” Brannon said, “and you need to have someone look at that foot of yours.

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