The Dawn of Fury (34 page)

“I don't know how or if this fits in,” McQueen said, “but I have it from a good source that Stumberg's thoroughbreds are at McDonoughville, near his Mayfair House. That's no more than a stone's throw south of the horse track at Gretna. I'm thinking of riding down there. If Stumberg's smart, there'll be somebody working those horses, and I'd like a look at them.”

“I'm going with you,” said Eulie. “I have a stake in this race.”

“We'll ride at first light tomorrow,” McQueen said. “Stumberg's barn will be somewhere near Mayfield House, I reckon, and that bunch will be up most of the night. We ought to be able to get close enough to see the barn and the horses without anybody seeing us.”

The morning following the attempted ambush, Nathan and Silver took their time getting to the house for breakfast. Taking chairs at the kitchen table, they watched Antoine fuss around the stove, doing his best to seem uninterested in them.

“That shooting yesterday makes no sense,” Nathan said. “Why didn't they gun us down from behind, instead of waiting for us to leave the house?”

“Damn it,” Silver growled, “I thought we had decided this whole thing is to establish a reason for us bein' gunned down at a time suitable to Stumberg, and maybe shifting the blame to Hargis Gavin.”

“I reckon we agree on that,” Nathan replied, “but why all this show? The story in the paper was enough to throw the blame in Gavin's lap.”

“We're in no position to make any moves,” said Silver. “Stumberg has a reason for keeping us alive, and I don't aim to jump the traces as long as he's stacking the deck.”

Antoine brought them steaming cups of coffee, and while they sipped that, he heaped their plates. Conversation lagged as Nathan and Silver began eating. Antoine brought the coffeepot, refilling their cups. Finally he poured himself some coffee and took a chair at the table, acting as though he had something to say.

“Damn it, Antoine,” Silver said, “speak up before you bust a gut.”

“Stumberg will be here tomorrow,” said Antoine.

“Any idea as to why?” Silver asked.

“No,” the cook replied. “Shanklin's got a burr under his tail. Come in here an' told me to wear a clean apron an' hat, like I ain't got the sense to do it without him tellin' me.”

Nathan and Silver said nothing more while they were in the kitchen, but it was something to think about. On the way back to the barn, Silver said what they were both thinking.

“I reckon he aims to see what we have to say about bein' shot at.”

“He won't hear a damn thing out of me,” Nathan said.

“Nor from me,” said Silver. “Our hole card's likely a deuce, but we'll not let him know that.”

Their usual routine was to spend at least an hour exercising the horses as soon as they returned from breakfast, and they did so this morning, for big gray clouds hung low and there was a promise of rain.

Eulie Prater and Barnabas McQueen took the ferry across the river, and with McQueen knowing the way, they bypassed Gretna, coming in to the west of Stumberg's Mayfair House. Cotton Blossom trotted along somewhere to the rear, and wasn't with them when they reined up among the trees several hundred yards west of Stumberg's barn. Nathan and Silver were walking the horses.

“There! With the bay,” Eulie cried. “That's Nathan!”

But she wasn't the first to make the discovery. With a glad yip, Cotton Blossom went tearing through the brush.

“Cotton Blossom!” Eulie cried. “No.”

“Let him go,” said McQueen. “Maybe we can talk to Stone. There'll be less chance of us bein' seen if he comes to us.”

Cotton Blossom danced around Nathan and almost spooked the bay. Nathan had to calm him before he could welcome the dog.

“This is Cotton Blossom,” Nathan said by way of introduction. “I reckon there's friends of mine up there in the woods. Hold the bay. I'm goin' up there.”

“It may be risky,” said Silver. “Stumberg may be arriving any time.”

“It's a chance I'll have to take,” Nathan replied.

Silver took the bay's halter rope and Nathan, with Cotton Blossom ahead, set out for the stand of trees. But soon he was well into the woods and out of sight of the house.

“Well, by God,” Nathan said, when he reached McQueen and Eulie. “How did you know I was here?”

“We didn't,” said McQueen. “I learned that Stumberg's horses were down here and we hoped to get a look at them. What are you doing here?”

“There was trouble aboard the steamboat in St. Louis,” Nathan replied. “Stumberg kicked me and Silver off the boat and sent us here. We'll be here until the race at Gretna.”

“We saw the piece in the paper,” Eulie said. “Has there been trouble because of that?”

“There's been some shooting,” Nathan said, “but we believe it's Stumberg's doing. We're supposed to think, along with everybody else, that Gavin's gun-toters are after us. We're figurin' we're being set up to draw suspicion from Stumberg. We look for some gunplay during the race, because we can't see Stumberg's thoroughbreds winning on a quarter-mile track.”

“Neither can I,” said McQueen. “There'll be only twelve horses entered, including Stumberg's, and I'm convinced Diablo can beat the lot of them.”

“Who's riding him?” Nathan asked.

“I am,” said Eulie.

“Then do this,” Nathan said. “Keep your head down, on the horse's neck. McQueen, bring your Winchester and ride your fastest horse. Stay near the finish line. There's cover on both sides of the track, so be prepared to shoot to either side. I have a feeling that Stumberg aims to position me and Silver on our horses somewhere along the track, and we'll draw some of the fire, but perhaps not all of it. Stumberg needs an edge in this race, and I believe he deliberately planted that newspaper story to blame any gunfire on Hargis Gavin.”

“So he might dispose of you and Silver,” said McQueen, “and if necessary, shoot any horse or rider that might cost him the race. He could then blame the shooting on Gavin, denying any responsibility.”

“That's how I see it,” Nathan said. “We've been fired on twice, and we could have been shot dead both times. Since we weren't, this has to be a setup for what's to come.”

“I believe you,” said McQueen. “When you think about it, Hargis Gavin would be a damn fool to go gunning for you and Silver. If either of you were gunned down, Gavin would get the blame. Do you want me to bring more men who will shoot if need be?”

“No,” Nathan said. “Three of us can handle it. Too many armed men might arouse suspicion and get some of them killed needlessly. Be ready to ride out quickly. I believe Silver and me will have to run for it, and I'd like for us to lay over at your place for the night, if you'll risk it. We'll arrange not to ride in until after dark.”

“Come on,” said McQueen.

“I'd better be gettin' back,” Nathan said, Stumberg may show up at any time.“ He shook McQueen's hand and then Eulie's, and saw the worry in her eyes.

Eulie held Cotton Blossom to prevent him following Nathan, while he hurried back to the stable as quickly as he could.

“I don't believe you were seen,” said Silver, as Nathan stepped into the corridor of the barn.

Nathan explained McQueen's and Eulie's circumstances to Silver without unnecessary detail, and Silver asked no troublesome questions. He was quick to voice the same fear that Nathan had left unspoken.

“That hombre ridin' Diablo may be in more danger than we are,” Silver said. “Those skunks with rifles could pretend to be Gavin's men, shooting at us, when they're really firing at McQueen's horse or the rider.”

“I'm afraid of that,” said Nathan, “the more I think about it. I believe Stumberg aims to win this race, that he's using us to justify enough gunfire to give his horses an edge, and then send gunmen after us. That's when we'll be rattlin' our hocks for McQueen's place, once the race is done.”

Stumberg arrived in the afternoon, after the rain had begun. Nathan and Silver saw him coming down the rise, swallowed up in a yellow slicker. He left it hanging on a wooden peg near the barn door.

“How are the horses comin' along?” he asked.

“We're walking, trotting, and slow-galloping them for an hour or more every day,” Silver said. Nathan said nothing.

“Good,” said Stumberg. “Had any trouble?”

“Nothing we couldn't handle,” Silver replied.

“Good,” said Stumberg smoothly. “I was a bit concerned. Somehow that old fool at the newspaper connected the two of you with those Gavin gunmen who jumped you near the river.”

Silver kept his silence and so did Nathan. It would have been a perfect opportunity to have told Stumberg about the hidden riflemen, and when they did not, Stumberg donned his slicker. Before leaving, he spoke once more.

“Keep the horses in shape.”

Silver nodded, while Nathan didn't even afford him that. Stumberg was almost to the house before Silver spoke.

“He wasn't here to see about the horses. What he really wanted to know was, are we fools enough to believe Gavin's bunch was throwin' lead at us.”

“That being the case,” Nathan said, “the cards are on the table. Now he knows that we know this foolishness about Gavin coming after us is just a cover for something else. I think we just increased our chances of gettin' shot dead before that race ends.”

At supper, Antoine wore a spotless chef's hat and apron, obviously in compliance with Drew Shanklin's order.

“God, I'm glad Stumberg's gone,” the cook said. “Something must have happened. I heard a little of what was said to Shanklin. Stumberg won't be here for the race, 'cause he's goin' to be in St. Louis an' won't be back until Sunday.”

“That's December thirtieth,” said Silver. “What do you think happened?”

“I dunno,” Antoine said, “but the steamboat ain't goin' back to St. Louis until that last week in December, when he goes with it. There was some talk about the dark of the moon and a sailin' ship. I didn't hear no more.”

Antoine had nothing further to say and Silver didn't press him. When Nathan and Silver left the house, they found it had been raining hard. The rumble of thunder and a rising wind brought the promise of a stormy night. There being little else to do, Nathan and Silver dragged off their boots and stretched out on their bunks. Weary of the silence, Nathan spoke.

“What do you make of Stumberg giving up his gambling shuttle to and from St. Louis?”

“I reckon what happened in St. Louis shook him,” Silver said. “That, and he no longer has a captain. He'll back off for a while, likely until after the first of the year.”

“If we're to believe what Antoine told us,” said Nathan, “Stumberg will be in St. Louis the week of the horse race, returning on Sunday. Why?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Silver said. “I expect hell will bust loose sometime durin' that race, and Stumberg wants to be as far removed from it as possible.”

Nathan had the same feeling—a premonition—and it had sunk its spurs into his mind. It had rankled him since he'd learned Eulie would be riding Diablo. But he knew Eulie Prater well enough to understand the futility of trying to change her mind.