C
HAPTER
N
INE
As Jenny continued to read the paper she heard a few gasps and comments from others in the waiting room and, looking up, she saw Deputy Sheriff Proxmire coming into the depot with two men in handcuffs and shackles. One of them she recognized as Luke Shardeen, the man she had met during her brief time in jail. She had no idea who the other man was until she heard someone point him out.
“That’s Michael Santelli!” The stranger’s voice was filled with awe. “They say he’s killed more ’n thirty men.”
“He’s only killed seventeen,” another man corrected.
“Yeah, well, they’re goin’ to hang him, and he’ll be just as dead whether he killed thirty or seventeen men.”
The first man chuckled. “You got that right.”
“That’s Luke with him. What’s he there for?”
“He’s goin’ to serve his four years in jail.”
“He’s goin’ to Cañon City?”
“No, he’s goin’ to be put in the Eagle County Jail at Red Cliff.”
The two prisoners were either unaware of the conversation about them or were ignoring it as they kept their eyes straight ahead. Deputy Proxmire prodded them toward the bench where Jenny was sitting. “You two men sit right there while I get the tickets,” he ordered.
Jenny started to get up, but Proxmire looked at her. “No, you stay there. You are being run out of town, so you are as much under my authority as these two men are.”
Jenny, with her cheeks flaming in embarrassment, sat back down.
“Hello, Miss McCoy,” Luke said. “It’s good to see you again.”
Jenny appreciated the calm and respectful greeting, and it helped her overcome some of the embarrassment she had felt at Proxmire’s harsh words to her. “Hello, Mr. Shardeen.”
“You remember my name. I’m flattered.”
“Of course I remember your name. I also remember that you are a rancher.”
“I
wa
s
a rancher. Now I’m a prisoner.” Luke made the comment with a disarming smile.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“I am too. I have finally met you, a most attractive and very pleasant young lady, and now I must leave.”
“Lady?” Santelli scoffed. “She ain’t no lady. You heard what the deputy said, didn’t you? This here woman’s bein’ run out of town. What did you do, girlie?”
Jenny didn’t answer.
“Cat got your tongue?” Santelli laughed.
Several women came hustling into the depot, drawing his attention. They unfurled a big, hand-painted sign.
H
ARLOTS
W
ILL
F
IND
N
O
W
ELCOME
IN
P
UEBLO
“Whoa!” Santelli said, holding his handcuffed hands out toward the women. “Did they bring that sign in here for you? Are you being run out of town because you’re a whore?”
Still, Jenny didn’t answer.
“That’s it, ain’t it? You’re a whore. Well, I’ll tell you what, darlin’, I’m about to go get myself hung. And if you had any kindness in you, why, you’d let me enjoy this almost last night I’m goin’ to have on earth. What do you say that me ’n you go over there in the corner and have us a little poke?”
“Please,” Jenny said. “I’d rather not talk.”
“I’d rather not get hung, too. But we don’t always get what we want,” Santelli said.
“Santelli, why don’t you leave the lady alone?” Luke couldn’t stay silent any longer.
“Lady? Ha! I told you, she ain’t no lady. She’s bein’ run out of town because she’s a whore, and you’re calling her a lady?”
“Yes, I’m calling her a lady.”
Santelli stared at Luke for a moment, then turned his attention back to Jenny. “Tell me, darlin’, what if I—?”
Smack!
With both hands cuffed together, Luke brought his fists around in a powerful stroke. The blow knocked Santelli out.
“I’m sorry, Miss McCoy,” Luke said to Jenny. “I apologize for his rudeness.”
“You have no need to apologize for him. You have nothing to do with him, and you have been most kind to me. I appreciate your coming to my aid.”
At that moment Proxmire returned. “All right, I have the tickets here. We can board as soon as—” He stopped his comment in mid-sentence and frowned.
Santelli was sitting with his head thrown to one side, his mouth open and his tongue sticking out. He was totally unconscious.
“What happened to him?” Proxmire jerked his head toward Santelli.
“Oh, he went to sleep,” Luke said.
The deputy stroked his chin. “He went to sleep, huh? Did you help him?”
“I might have sung a lullaby or something to him to get him in the mood,” Luke suggested.
Jenny choked back a giggle over Luke’s comment, and his smile showed that he appreciated her reaction.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s not going to go any further. Luke, you sit on the other side of the girl, I’ll sit on this side of her, and Santelli will be on the other side of me. That ought to keep the two of you apart.
Santelli came to a moment later and he stared straight ahead as if trying to orient himself. He reached up to touch his black eye and winced.
“What happened?”
“You fell out of your seat,” Proxmire said. “You should sit up straighter.”
It was obvious that Santelli didn’t remember being hit by Luke, and when Jenny saw him adjusting his position in the seat so as “not to fall out again,” she couldn’t help chuckle a second time.
“Say,” Luke said. “When I come back here four years from now, would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Oh, I”—Jenny started to say that she had no idea where she would be in four years, but found the idea of having dinner with Luke Shardeen a very pleasant one—“would be glad to have dinner with you.” Besides, it would obviously make him feel better if he had something to look forward to, whether it ever happened or not.
“Good. Now, don’t you be backing out on me. I plan to hold on to that thought for the next four years. That’s what’s going to get me through it.”
State Senator Jarred Daniels stood before the checkout desk at the Victoria Hotel.
“We’ve been just real proud to have you as our guest, Senator,” the desk clerk said. “Yes sir, being as you were one of the people most responsible for getting the Colorado Mining Museum here, why, it’s an honor to have served you.”
“Thank you. My wife and I sent our luggage down a while ago. Was it transported to the railroad depot?”
“Yes sir, it was, and it’s all checked and ready to go onto the Red Cliff Special.”
“Good man.” Daniels paid the bill, then walked over to an upholstered sofa where his wife Millie and their daughter Becky were waiting for him. Millie was holding her hand to Becky’s forehead.
“What is it?” Daniels asked.
“I don’t know,” Millie replied. “She feels as if she has a slight fever.”
“It’s probably from the heat here in the lobby. It’s very cold outside, and I think they go overboard a little on the heat. How do you feel, Becky?”
“I don’t feel good, Papa.”
“Well, you’ll feel better after we get out of this lobby. A little cool air will do you good. Come on, the trolley will be here directly.”
Millie made certain her daughter was well bundled up, then they stepped out into the frigid night air. It was so cold it nearly took Millie’s breath away. She put her arms around her daughter and pulled her closer as they watched the approaching trolley, sparks flying from the wand connected to the overhead wires.
The trolley stopped and the motorman opened the doors. He smiled when he saw the statesman, who was easily recognizable because of his girth and his muttonchop beard. “Senator Daniels. Welcome aboard my car, sir.”
“Thank you.” Daniels turned to help his wife and daughter onto the car.
“Where are you going on this cold night?” the motorman asked. “I would think on a night like this, one would want to stay home before a warm fire.”
“That might be true, young man. But, like you, I have work to do, work that calls me out on cold nights.” Daniels sat next to Millie as the trolley started forward.
“I’m worried about her,” Millie said. “She’s being very quiet. You know she isn’t normally like this.”
“Naturally you are worried. You are her mother, and mothers tend to worry. But I’m sure there is nothing wrong with her. Once we get on the train she’ll be warm, and she can sleep. Why, I’ll bet she is fit as a fiddle come morning.”
“I hope you are right.”
“I know I’m right. You’ll see.” Daniels reached over to pat his wife on the knee.
Millie put her arm around her daughter and pulled her closer.
Just down the street from the depot, Parker, Compton, Kelly, and Morris were having a beer in the Lucky Strike Saloon.
“Are you sure he is going to be on this train?” Compton asked.
“That’s what we were told,” Parker answered.
“Besides which, it’s in the newspaper today,” Kelly added. “I seen the story myself.”
“Yeah, but newspapers ain’t always right.”
“He’ll be on the train,” Parker said.
“Do you really think Santelli has enough money to give us five hundred dollars apiece?” Morris asked. “That’s two thousand dollars.”
“Ward says he does. And he prob’ly has a lot more ’n that,” Parker insisted. “There’s no tellin’ how much money he has stole over the last three or four years. I would be surprised if he didn’t have four or five thousand dollars hid away somewhere.”
“Which ain’t goin’ to do him no good if he’s hung,” Kelly added.
“Exactly right,” Parker replied. “So as soon as we get him away, he’ll take us to where he’s got the money hid.”
“What if he don’t do it?” Morris asked.
“You heard what Ward said. If he don’t do it, we’ll kill ’im.” Parker snorted.
“Yeah, that’s what he said, all right,” Morris agreed. “But what if he just told us that to make sure we come in with him?”
“It’s a little late to be thinkin’ about all that now, ain’t it?” Parker asked. “I mean we’re already here. The train will be comin’ tonight, and I say we go through with it. Unless five hundred dollars don’t mean nothin’ to you.”
“No, no, I didn’t say I wasn’t goin’ to go through with it.” Morris quickly changed his tune. “I was sort of thinkin’ out loud, is all.”
“Well, don’t think,” Parker instructed. “There’s no need to be thinkin’. Ever’thing’s already been thought out for us.”
“It’s gettin’ pretty close to time,” Compton reckoned. “I expect we’d better get on down to the depot.”
As soon as the four men left the saloon, they were hit by an icy blast of wind.
“Damn, that’s cold!” Kelly shivered as they walked to the depot.
“Feels like it’s goin’ to snow,” Morris surmised.
“What difference does it make how cold it is?” Parker asked. “We’ll be on the train. They got heatin’ stoves in all the cars, and they keep the cars nice and warm. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have nobody ridin’ the trains in the wintertime.”
Once inside they moved to the stove for a moment, then stepped up to the ticket window.
“We want four tickets to Big Rock.”
“Yes, sir, four tickets to Big Rock,” the ticket agent said.
Parker pointed to Santelli. “What car is he going to be in?”
“Oh, sir, I don’t know. Unless someone buys a ticket specifically for a Pullman car, I never have any idea where they will be. This is a narrow-gauge railroad, so there are no Pullman cars on this run. But I’m sure if you don’t want to be in the same car as a murderer, you will be able to avoid him.”
“We want to be—” Parker stopped mid-sentence. He’d started to say they wanted to be in the same car as Santelli, but thought that might make the ticket clerk suspicious. “That is, I really don’t care what car we get put in.”
“Well, I will say this, sir. Normally the Red Cliff Special is pretty much filled. But it being nearly Christmas, it seems there aren’t as many passengers as normal, so you can probably sit just about anywhere you want.”
After the four men received their tickets, three of them went over to the farthest side of the depot waiting room, but Parker went over to the prisoners. “Santelli, Bob Ward is an old friend of mine. He said if I saw you, I was to tell you hello.”
“Really? You’ve met with him recently?”
“Just a couple of days ago.”
“Well, thank you. And thank you for bringing the message,” Santelli nodded indicating he understood.