Part 6 to be continued
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Part 6 Lou yawned and looked at the others. It was unusually quiet in the bunkhouse, but it wasn't a pleasant silence. Buck and Jimmy had hardly said a word to each other and Kid had suddenly avoided her. She didn't understand what was wrong with him. She'd really thought that they really were getting together, really together and that he cared as much as she did. Maybe she'd been mistaken. Had she done something wrong? She had pondered speaking to Rachel for some advice and maybe she should. Tomorrow, she thought sleepily, I'll talk to Rachel tomorrow. She turned her back to the room and pulled the blanket tighter around her. It was really no need for the blanket, but she liked the feeling of the warm material swept around her. It gave comfort and a feeling of safety. Kid watched Lou turn in her bunk and he suppressed an urge to get up and tuck the blanket around her. He felt stupid. How come that he didn't know what to do? He kept wondering what the others thought. Did they know what was going on between him and Lou - really going on? He wasn't sure how to act to avoid being the target for their insinuations and jokes. He just wanted to do the right thing, the honourable thing, although he wasn't sure what it was. And he was worried that Cody might get some stupid idea and ruin everything. Or ruin something. He'd been pleased when Cody had accepted that extra run, until he realised that he was scheduled for the first run tomorrow when Ike came back. Lou hadn't a run until the day after tomorrow. What if Cody told her about the letter that he'd been trying to write? What if Cody got it to be something else than he had attended. Worried he turned around and tried to get some sleep. Jimmy watched Kid twist and turn in his bed. There was something troubling him, that's for sure. He just wished Kid could stop his turning around and go to sleep. The sound kept him awake. Maybe things weren't as well between Kid and Lou after all. They hadn't said much to each other after dinner. But then, not many words had been spoken from any of them. He hoped that everything was all right between Lou and Kid. How he felt when seeing them together had nothing to do with the fact that they belonged together. Or did they, he pondered. Sometimes he felt that Kid wasn't at all the right man for Lou. She needed someone else, someone that allowed her to be who she was, and didn't try and change her. He wouldn't ---. He stopped his thoughts. He was definitely not the man for Lou, she was worth someone better. He sighed. He was in a bad mood and the argument with Buck earlier hadn't exactly made his day any better. Maybe Lou would like to follow him out to the Craven's place tomorrow, he thought, after Kid has left for Seneca. She if any body could see that the boy wasn't lying, he decided and closed his eyes. Buck listened to the sound from the others. As soon as he was sure they were sound asleep, he silently went up and collected his clothes. Silently he tiptoed to the door and opened it. Not until he was at the stable he dressed and saddled his horse. Quietly, as not to wake anybody up, he rode out from the station. He just had to check that forest before any tracks that might be there had disappeared. Teaspoon was up as the first brim of sun rose at the horizon. Noah would be back today from Denver with news about the broker who sold the land to Mr. Craven. He was anxious to know if there was any foul play involved in the selling. If it where, he could make Craven move and that would certainly ease the situation. He looked at the deserted yard and sadly shook his head. None of his riders where up yet, and there were chores to be done. He started to walk over to the bunkhouse, when the sound of an approaching rider made him turn around. Teaspoon watched the rider approach and as he came closer, Teaspoon ran up to meet an exhausted Barnett. "What's up Barnett that made you ride out here at this hour?" he asked as the rider halted his horse. "There's trouble over at Craven's, marshal," Barnett panted. "What kind of trouble?" "They're bringing in a prisoner, they say they caught him prowling on Craven's land." "How do you know?" "Ambrose Emery rode into to town this morning drunk, and bragging about how they caught a prowler." "Emery?" "He was one of the men that followed Craven out to the farm. Said he was goin' to get himself an In'jun to kill." Teaspoon sneered. "Emery never had a clear thought in his life. Who's this they s'pose to have caught?" "Don't know, marshal. Talk of the town is that's an In'jun." "And they're bringing him in?" Barnett nodded. "Don't know in what shape, though. Emery claims that he put up a fight." "He's beaten half to death, I'd guess. Damn," Teaspoon mumbled. "All right Barnett, head back into town and wait for me." "What are you goin' to do?" "I'll bring the boys and we'll meet Mr. Craven and his bunch before they reach town. Then we'll see." Barnett nodded and turned his horse, content with leaving the decision of how to act to Teaspoon. Teaspoon walked briskly over to the bunkhouse and opened the door without ceremonies. "Get up," he ordered briskly, seeing the riders slowly get to their feet. "What's up Teaspoon?" Jimmy asked as he rubbed the sleep out his eyes. "Craven and his lynchmob is supposed to have caught an Indian. I want you to head out with me to stop him before somebody is killed." Teaspoon searched the room as something struck him to be wrong. He looked at the others. "Where's Buck?" he asked tensely. The riders looked at each other and then at the empty bunk. Their faces told Teaspoon what he needed to know and he felt a chill down his spine. "Good Lord," he mumbled as the truth struck him. "You think they got Buck?" Lou asked what they all feared. "There are too much of an coincidence for me to overlook that," Teaspoon replied. "Get ready, boys, and I'll see to the horses. We've got no time to loose." Buck tied his horse to one of the branches of a tree nearby. It was still far from the house, but he was certain that Craven would have guards posted. He wasn't afraid of being seen, but he would take no risks either. So he left his horse and slowly made his advances towards the edge of the grove closest to the house. Now and then he stopped and listened. From the stable he could hear loud voices and he frowned. Those men had no idea of how to keep guard he thought. If a war party would take interest in the homestead these so-called guards wouldn't even se them coming. He ignored the area closest to the house and begun to examine the ground in the pale moonlight. He kept himself in cover and for every minute that passed he became more and more convinced that he wouldn't be discovered. Somewhere in his mind he thought it odd that they hadn't placed any guards around the forest, but then he didn't think much of any of those men. He'd recognised Ambrose Emery's voice among the men and he certainly wasn't a man of action. He had fought down a feeling to beat up the man on several occasions, when Emery had showed off his hatred of half-breeds and Indians in general, but finally he'd realised that the man was no more than foul wind, and that nobody paid any attention to the man's ramblings. So he too had ignored him. Full of contempt over how the men were keeping guard he continued his search with more ease. He was throughout about it, not wanting to miss anything. When he'd covered half of the grove furthest away from the house, he was convinced that there where no tracks of Indians or anybody else for that matter. The boy was lying. All he had to do now was to take a closer look by the house, just to make sure. He didn't want Jimmy or the Kid to accuse him of missing anything again. He crept slowly closer, keeping on eye on the ground and occasionally checking the stable. Suddenly a large explosion sent him to the ground. The smell of burnt flesh and hair filled his nostrils as a ringing started in his ears. Stunned and temporarily blinded by a bright light he tried to get to his feet, only to feel an intense pain in his left leg and arm. Somewhere he thought he heard voices and he realised that whatever had caused the explosion, it had alerted the men. He had to get out of there and quickly. Ignoring the pain that seemed to impair his movements he more crawled than crept away from the sounds and the shouts. He was subconsciously aware of a fire somewhere, but he was too dizzy to see where. All he could think of was how he was going to get out of the chaos of smoke, fire and shouting people. The ringing in his ears had somewhat subdued and he could recognise words. It sounded as the men realised that somebody set off that explosion and was organising a search. He managed to get to his feet and half-blinded and stunned he stumbled through the trees in the direction he hoped his horse would be. So far they hadn't discovered him, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before they got used to the dark and the search would be hot on his trail. He had to reach his horse before they reached him. He hoped the explosion hadn't spooked the animal. As the thoughts whirled through his mind he staggered on, now and then falling over branches and rocks. His eyesight improved somewhat and he could make better time through the wood. He was aware that something was dripping from his forehead and when he placed his hand there he saw blood on it. His shirt was in pieces from the explosion and he had burn marks on his left hand. His left leg looked as if somebody had used it for target practice with a shotgun. There were numerous small wounds and cuts, each of them bleeding. He was getting further away from his followers and he was just about to take a deep breath of relief when the ground seemed to give in beneath him and he fell. He hit the bottom with a bang and lay still, fighting for his breath, as the fall had knocked the wind out of him. He was still fighting for air, when a voice was heard above him. "Hey! I found him! He's fallen into the old bear trap!" A swarm of voices seemed to come from above him and he finally managed to gasp some air. Still stunned he remained where he'd fallen wondering what would happen next. "It's that half-breed from the Express Station," somebody said. "I always knew he couldn't be trusted," another voice added. "Let's get rid of 'im!" "What 'bout the marshal? He won't like this - what if he accuses us?" "What! Are you yellow? What can he do?" "We should let the law take care of him." Buck listened to the voices above, cursing his bad luck and trying to gather as much strength as possible. If he was lucky he might be able to fight his way out once they took him out of the bear trap. At least there was someone up there who was afraid of what Teaspoon would do - and right now that was his only hope. These men were after blood, and if nobody stopped them it was gonna be his blood. His best chance was if they decided to turn him over to Teaspoon. "The law." Buck recognised Craven's voice. "Marshall Hunter ain't much of a lawman, since he's ready to protect scum like this 'ere half-breed." "Hunter's a good man," somebody objected. "I'll think we should hear what he has to say." "I know what he'll say - that there's some mistake and then he'll let the half-breed go free." Craven's voice sounded furiously. "Yeah, he's done it before." The high pitching voice of Ambrose Emery cut in. "Remember that Colonel that was killed by the Sioux - when he accused Cross of murder and treason, Teaspoon didn't even lift a finger. Said he'd vouch for the half-breed personally." "There you are," Craven stated. "I say we take care of this ourselves. After all it's my land and I'll do whatever I please." "We can't put ourselves over the law, Craven," someone objected, but the crowd was weakening. The voices disappeared into a mumble and Buck couldn't follow the conversation. He hoped that the ones arguing to turn him over to Teaspoon would win. Finally feeling somewhat normal he rose and placed himself in a sitting position at the bottom of the pit, waiting for whatever would happen next. "All right," Craven's voice came back again. "I don't mind turning him over to the law - might actually be some fun to let Hunter take care of him. You're all witness that he's guilty of trespassing and stealing?" Stealing? What was the man talking about? Buck wondered. He hadn't stolen anything. He looked up at the faces staring down at him. "You had some nerve coming here trying to steal our horses, didn't you? Craven said with a smirk in his face. "Luckily, we stopped you before you got away." So that was it, Buck thought. They were gonna frame him with false charges of horse theft. Teaspoon would be forced to act upon the accusations and with enough witnesses it might even go to trial. Well, it didn't matter, as long as he got out of this predicament and was turned over to Teaspoon. He was sure the old stationmaster could find some way to get him out of this mess. "Get 'im up!" A rope was thrown down to him and unable to do anything else he grabbed hold of it and was hauled out of the pit. As soon as his arms were over the edge, strong hands grabbed hold of him and tied his hands behind his back. His gun and knife was removed from him. Buck tried not to react as the rope cut his wrist and the hands holding him irritated the burns on his left arm. When the men was satisfied that he was well tied, Craven stepped up to him. "I wanna know what you were doin' on my land?" he said sternly. "Did you think you could sneak in here and harm my family or scare us off our land? Or were you scouting for the rest of you to attack, as they did earlier?" Buck stared at the man. "There were no Indians that attacked your son," he said, only to receive a blow from Craven's fist in his face. "Don't you dare calling my son a liar, damn half-breed," Craven stated, as he looked over the rest of his men. "I think we should teach this half-breed some manners," he said and smiled at his prisoner. The smile sent chills down Buck's spine as he tried to remain motionless. "You said we should turn him over to the law." "We are, Dode, but not until I've teach this half-breed some proper behaviour and respect for white folks. After that I'll gladly hand 'im over to Hunter." There was some mumbling in the group, so Craven continued. "Are you telling me that you don't want to teach this 'ere In'jun a lesson? You gonna let him walk down your streets, looking at your daughters? Do you think he show you respect? Hell, he's just waiting for the right time to call in his tribe and to kill you and your families." Craven continued to stir up the crowd, and finally they mumbled in agreement. It was better to teach the half-breed a lesson now than to be sorry later. Buck stared in anger at Craven. The man was so full of hatred for Indians that he realised that it was just out of sheer luck he hadn't been shot two days ago. What Craven had in mind for him now, he didn't know. His one ray of hope was that they still were planning to turn him over to Teaspoon. At least they weren't going to kill him. "Lou, I want you to head over to town and ask Doc to meet us at the station," Teaspoon ordered as they led out the horses from the stable. The fact that Buck's horse was missing had increased their suspicions that it was Buck that had been caught on Craven's land. "Why Teaspoon?" Lou asked. "Just in case we need 'im," Teaspoon replied shortly. Lou looked at him and without a word she turned Lightning into the direction of the town. "What the hell was Buck doin' at Craven's?" Jimmy asked as he mounted his horse. "I suspect he wanted to see if there where any tracks of some sort," Teaspoon replied. "There's no reason to wonder why, Jimmy. It's been done. All we can do now is to help him out of this mess, that is, if it really is Buck that they've caught. Remember, we ain't sure of that it really is Buck. Might be someone else," he added without conviction. They knew Buck had a reason for going to Craven's place, and that he'd sneaked out during the night. Where else would he have gone, if not to look for tracks? "Maybe he went to see his brother?" Kid suggested. "Let's hope there's where he is," Teaspoon said. "Come on, we won't know anything until we meet up with Craven and his men." Buck was roughly pushed over to a glade, where Craven ordered a fire to be lit. Craven had disliked the way Teaspoon had treated him before and decided that this could be his way to get even. The man had also taken an immediate dislike to the pride and defiance in Buck's eyes when they had met two days ago. Now he had the intention of breaking the boy. When he was through there would be no more pride or defiance. He would show these small town folks how In'juns and their likes should be treated. He'd broken more men than horses in his days, and all of them had broken down, ending as sobbing creatures by his feet. Now he'd found himself a family and changed his occupation, but he hadn't forgotten how to break a man. He would show this In'jun just how easy it was. As they waited for the fire to start, Craven lit a cigar and strolled over to where Buck was standing unsteadily between two men. He stopped before the boy and looked him in the face. When he saw the calm defiance, he slowly blew a smoke cloud in the Indian's face. Although it irritated Buck's nose and throat he managed not to cough. "Being afraid, Indian?" Craven looked at him. "For you? No." Craven smiled. "I would if I were you," he said coldly, enjoying the situation. "You know, it's not to late to change our minds. Maybe we should just kill you. Hunter would never know where you'd gone, and they would just assume that you'd left." "Then go ahead." Buck answered calmly. He was not going to let this man think that he feared him. "I've heard that Indians don't bury their dead. Always wondered why. Maybe you could tell me, he?" Buck stared at the man. What was he aiming at? "You know, that would be an easy solution. All we need is a coffin and a hole. We could bury you right here in this glade, and nobody would find you. Of course, to make it more interesting for you, you'd had to be alive when we bury the coffin." Buck stiffened, as well as his guards. They didn't like this talk about burying people alive. For a moment Buck just stood there, fighting his fear, realising that Craven was watching his every move. But it was too late. A sardonic smile showed on Craven's face. "So you do know fear. Maybe I'll keep the burial as an option." Craven said, and slowly strolled back to the fire. He knew he could break this boy. He never failed in this game. Buck tried to gain control over his feelings. For a moment he'd actually been scared, really scared, but he was determined not to let it show. But he couldn't help it - the thought of being buried alive scared him. Not only because he couldn't think of a worse way to die, but also because he'd been taught that a burial meant that the dead person's spirit was trapped. He couldn't explain exactly what happened if a spirit was refused to leave the body and join the the land behind the sun. The stories never told that. But the uncertainty only increased his fear, not only for the death, but also for what happened after. Craven strolled over to where some men were standing by the fire. Nervous 'bout what Craven had in mind, they just stood there doin' nothing. "Start digging a hole, boys," Craven said. "What for?" "Just do it." "What kind of hole?" "Big enough for a coffin." "You said we'd turn the boy over to Hunter when we were through," one objected. "I haven't said anything 'bout killing somebody," Craven smiled. "I just wanna see that half-breed squirm. Are you gonna dig or not?" "All right. Might as well do something as standing here," one of them muttered and went for some shovels. "Ambrose," Craven called as the men went over to the stable. "There's a canister with whiskey in the stable. Will you get it for me? We can't let the men go thirsty." Ambrose licked his lips in eager anticipation. After years of never being listened to he was finally going to see some result. That it would be the half-breed who thought he could turn into a white man by changing the clothes on his body didn't make it worse. The fact that Buck had more education that Ambrose Emery ever even had cared for, had set the small man to hate Buck with intensity unknown to anybody else. Today, he would finally get his revenge and for this he could swear an eternal loyalty to Mr. Craven. Craven watched the men standing around the fire in anticipation and some even with fear. He knew this kind of men. Seven years as a sergeant in the army had taught him how to read them. He knew what buttons to push in order to keep them under his control. He smiled to himself. He realised that he missed the feeling of power that came with commanding a force. He would offer the men something to drink, that would help 'em set their fear aside. There was only one person that was supposed to be scared here tonight. But first he must see to it that none of the men chickened out. He wouldn't allow that. Not under his command. Buck watched Emery return with a canister and then he was tied to a tree and his guards relieved of their duty. He wondered what they were waiting for. He wished that they would get whatever they were planning over with. He tried to keep himself calm, but the wait was worse than he had imagined. Craven saw how the men relaxed when they realised there would be booze. As the whiskey sank in the canister, their courage grew and that was how he wanted it. Now and then he threw an eye over to where the young Indian was sitting, apparently unimpressed with the surroundings. But Craven knew better. He knew the boy must be worn out from the shock of the explosion and still uncertain of his fate. He better took advantage of that before the boy regained his composure. "Let's start that digging now", he said as the shovels were brought to the fire. "We're gonna give that In'jun a good scare, right?" a man called McComb said. "Right. Start digging." They better hurried up - he wanted the half-breed away from the house before the daybreak. James sat up in his bed. He had woken up at the explosion, but his mother had appeared almost immediately and told him there was no danger. But he hadn't been able to go back to sleep and now he was eagerly peering out the window to see what was going on. Finally his curiosity took over and with a quick glance at his sleeping mother and sister, he quietly dressed and slipped out the door. Buck watched how some of the men started to dig and felt a cold hand grip his heart. Had Craven changed his mind? he thought, uncertain on what was goin' on. The whiskey had been generously offered among the men and some, like Ambrose Emery, seemed to be drunk. Maybe they weren't so eager to save his life any more, he pondered as he tried to avoid looking at Craven. Finally he couldn't help himself. Craven was the one he feared. Only by looking at him could he knew if there were going to kill him or not. Slowly he turned his head and search for Craven. Craven saw the searching eyes of Buck and smiled to himself. Once, he thought. The boy's getting nervous. When Buck's eyes found his, he smiled and slowly blew a smoke ring into the night air. Buck immediately turned away his head, but it was enough for Craven. He knew the boy would be forced to look at him one, maybe two more times. And then he would have him where he wanted him to be. Fear was a powerful weapon if you knew how to use it. |
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