Part 12 (1/2)

The fighting was fierce but short-lived. When the prisoners-former prisoners, now-stepped back, one of the outlaws was dead and the other three were out cold.

Luke picked up a couple pistols that had been dropped during the fracas and felt better as soon as his hands wrapped around the gun b.u.t.ts. They were Colts instead of his Remingtons, but they would do nicely. ”Some of you men grab those horses,” he ordered. ”We can't let them get away.”

The wounded man's wife rushed up to fuss over her husband as Luke checked the man's injury and saw that it wasn't too serious. ”He'll be all right, ma'am.”

He looked around at the others. ”I need three volunteers to come with me. Three who can handle a gun.”

The conductor stepped out of the group. He had untied his feet and was making his way around a little unsteadily. ”I'll come.”

Luke shook his head. ”You've done enough, friend. You've lost quite a bit of blood and need to take it easy as much as you can.”

The engineer stepped forward. ”If you're going after those train robbers, mister, count me in. They killed my fireman. I got a score to settle with 'em.”

Two more men spoke up, neither of them married.

That was a good thing, Luke thought. They'd be going up against heavy odds and there was a good chance none of them would come back alive.

But . . . no matter how dangerous it was, Luke was going after Burroughs and the rest of the gang, not to mention McCluskey and Delia. He told his volunteers, ”Grab the hats and vests these owlhoots are wearing. Here's what we're going to do. . . .”

CHAPTER 20.

Luke and the men going with him had no time to waste. They had to have the element of surprise on their side if they were going to stand any chance against the outlaws. They needed to appear at the rendezvous point before Burroughs started to wonder why his men hadn't shown up.

Not only that, but the outlaws on the boat would have heard the gunfire and had to be curious what the ruckus had been about. Luckily, only a few shots had gone off, so Burroughs wouldn't likely think that the guards he'd left behind had decided to ma.s.sacre the prisoners.

Wearing the outlaws' hats and vests and armed with weapons they had taken, Luke and his companions mounted up and headed northwest along the river. He figured the stream must have a name, but he'd never heard it. They might as well call it Blood River, he thought grimly. That was likely to be running in it before the day was over.

The engineer, who'd introduced himself as Kermit Winslow, asked as they rode, ”Do you really think we can get close enough to jump those hombres without them recognizing us?”

”I hope so,” Luke said. ”Otherwise, they'll just sit there on that boat and pick us off at their leisure.”

The other two volunteers were Craig Bolden, a mining engineer, and Ray Stinson, an unemployed cowboy currently riding the grub line. Both had handled themselves well during the fight with the guards, and Luke hoped that would continue. The odds would be at least two to one against them, so they would need some luck on their side, too.

The going wasn't easy as they rode upriver. In some places the steep slope went down almost to the water, leaving only a narrow trail they could follow. At times, the path was blocked by rocks, and they had to ride into the river a short distance. Fortunately, the stream was fairly shallow despite having a strong, steady current, so the horses didn't have to swim.

Finally, Luke spotted smoke rising into the sky around a bend in the river. He motioned for the others to stop. ”I want to go ahead on foot and have a look. We need to know what we're getting into.”

He dismounted and left Winslow, Bolden, and Stinson. He used the brush growing close to the water for cover as he slipped forward to reconnoiter.

Reaching the bend, he parted some branches and peered through the gap he'd made. The riverboat was pulled up next to a gra.s.sy bank about two hundred yards upstream, and a gangplank had been placed between the deck and the sh.o.r.e so the guards could ride their horses over it when they arrived.

Only those guards weren't coming, Luke thought. One man was dead, and the other three were prisoners, tied up back at the train.

That gave Luke an idea. He faded back along the bank to the spot where he'd left the volunteers.

He explained what he'd seen and what his plan was. ”You three are going to ride up to the boat leading the other horse. Keep your heads down so they can't see your faces very well, and there's a good chance you ought to get pretty close before they realize you're not the men they're expecting. They're bound to have heard those shots earlier, so they probably figure some of the prisoners put up a fight. When they see an empty saddle, they'll think the fourth guard was killed in the fighting.”

”What are you going to be doing, Jensen?” Winslow asked.

”I'm going to take them even more by surprise. I plan to get on the boat without them knowing I'm anywhere around.”

”How do you plan to do that?” Stinson wanted to know.

”The river.” Luke nodded toward the stream. ”I'm going to stay underwater as much as I can and swim up to the other side of the boat.”

Winslow rubbed his jaw and frowned. ”That'll be quite a ch.o.r.e, swimming that far against the current.”

”If I can make it, we'll have them in a crossfire.”

”Yeah, there's that. I guess it's worth a try.”

Stinson and Bolden nodded in agreement.

Luke checked the Colts he had taken from the outlaws. Getting wet wouldn't keep them from firing, although being immersed in water wasn't good for guns in the long run. If his plan worked, he wouldn't need those revolvers for very long. He might even be able to recover his Remingtons from whichever of the outlaws had taken them.

He stripped down to his long underwear and tied the pair of Colts into a bundle using his s.h.i.+rt, then tied the sleeves around his waist. ”Give me five minutes before you ride around the bend. Take your time as you approach the boat. And remember, keep your heads down.” He paused and then gave them a grim smile. ”Good luck.”

”Good luck to you, too, Jensen,” Winslow said.

Luke slipped into the water and stroked out to where the river was deeper. Even though the weather was warm, the mountain streams were fed by a combination of springs and snowmelt, and that made them cold year-round. It instantly drained all the warmth from Luke's body and seemed to steal the very breath from his lungs.

He ignored that and kept moving, knowing he wouldn't be in the water long enough to be in danger of freezing to death. Moving would help warm him up a little. He reached the deeper water and swam against the current, heading upriver.

He hadn't gone very far before weariness began draining the strength from his muscles. Fighting the current was exhausting. As soon as he was around the bend, he had to be careful how hard he stroked and kicked. He couldn't afford to make much disturbance in the water or he risked someone on the riverboat noticing his approach. It would have been easier if he could have circled wide around the boat, gone into the water upstream, and allowed the current to carry him back down, but there hadn't been time for that.

He wondered if he was going to reach the riverboat before Winslow, Stinson, and Bolden did. If he didn't, they would be left on their own once the outlaws discovered they were not three of the guards who'd been left behind. They wouldn't stand a chance unless Luke could board the boat without being seen and take the gang by surprise.

Finally around the bend, he took a breath and ducked his head, going completely under the frigid water. Whenever he needed to take a breath he would have to roll onto his back and allow just his mouth and nose to break the surface. He put that off as long as possible to decrease the chances of being spotted.

With ice seeming to flow in his veins, Luke swam on.

”How long do you plan to wait here?” McCluskey asked as he stood on the deck. He held his left hand out while Delia worked on the lock of that cuff with a sharp piece of metal she had found in the boat's engine room. She had already managed to spring the lock on the right-hand cuff.

Burroughs stood with his hands tucked in the hip pockets of his trousers as he gazed back downstream. His hat was pulled down low over his eyes. ”We'll wait as long as we have to for those fellas to join us. We don't run out on our partners.”

”What if they're not coming?”

”They'll be here,” Burroughs said confidently. ”I never knew a man to turn his back on this much gold, did you? Well . . . with the exception of Luke Jensen, and he doesn't really count. Those Jensens aren't normal men. I've heard plenty of stories about his brothers Smoke and Matt.”

McCluskey grimaced. He didn't care about Jensen or his d.a.m.n brothers. He would have liked to have had his vengeance on the bounty hunter, but that was in the past. McCluskey was focused on claiming his share of the gold in those strongboxes sitting on the deck and getting the h.e.l.l out of there.

He frowned at Burroughs. ”We all heard those shots a little while ago. What if the pa.s.sengers from the train jumped your guards? That's the only explanation that makes any sense.”

”Maybe,” Burroughs admitted. ”But there were only a few shots. That didn't sound like a full-scale battle to me. My men probably had to fire some warning shots to calm things down again.”