Crossed Trails Read online

  "Let's try that door we spotted," Silas suggested. "The way we come in is a mud hole."

  Heck nodded, and led the way to the portal they had found the previous afternoon. The wheeled latch was suggestive enough, and after just a bit of experimentation which required him to slide a lever out of the way, the wheel turned freely. A moment later he was able to push open the door, which appeared to have a very secure and watertight rubber seal of some sort. It also had deployed some kind of stairway that allowed them simple access to the ground below, although due to the tilted angle they'd have a four-foot jump to make at the end. The door had opened a full one-eighty, latching open and standing out of their way, providing them a view of the soggy world waiting for them this early morning. From their position, they couldn't see back where they'd tied the horses.

  In the distance the sun was trying to make it's way above the surrounding hills. The rain clouds that had been so ominous the night before had moved on, and all indications were for a surprisingly nice day. Silas was already making his way down the ladder as Heck surveyed their situation, and watching as his partner made the jump from the end of the ladder, he started after him.

  Heck's mount seemed happy to see them, snorting and shuffling his feet as Heck drew near. The mule just looked miserable, and Silas's mount was nowhere to be seen.

  "Damn horse broke free," Silas said, showing Heck the end of the torn rope that had been intended to keep the animal securely tied to the tree.

  "Can't have gone too far," Heck said, unsuccessfully scanning the countryside in hopes of spotting the animal. "I'll go have a look after I get this one fed and saddled."

  Heck set to brushing his horse while it eagerly dug into the feedbag he had tied around its head. Most of their gear was wet, but nowhere near as bad as expected, indicating the steep cliffs had provided more protection than they'd anticipated. Silas saw to the mule, and dug through their gear, hanging soggy blankets on the tree limbs to begin drying out, and digging through the saddlebags for something to eat. The sun was peeking over the distant hills when Heck had his horse saddled and was ready to set off.

  "Don't like you heading off alone," Silas said as Heck slid the Winchester into the scabbard.

  "Won't go far. If your animal isn't close, we'll just have to make do with the mule until we get somewhere we can buy another mount. Rain washed out any sign of tracks, so I'll have to just scout around and see. Maybe you can see if there's anything we might want to bring from inside that thing," he said indicating the vehicle where they'd spent the night.

  It was nearly an hour before Heck spotted the skittish animal, and nearly another half before the beast would allow him close enough to rope and lead it back to their camp. He tied the animal more securely, and gave it some of their limited supply of feed, and headed back toward the vehicle to check on Silas.

  "I'm not sure we can carry all that," Heck said when he spotted the pile of stuff Silas had accumulated near the door of the vehicle. In addition to the rifles and their ammunition, Silas had several blankets, a lot of the wrapped and canned food that had turned out to be palatable, a couple of very nice jackets, a couple of knives, two of the portable light sticks they had found, and most surprising of all, what looked to be a pile of gold.

  "Thought we could spend the morning while our other gear is drying out going through this. Some of our stuff could use replacing," Silas pointed out.

  "Where'd you find the gold?" Heck asked, eagerly picking up several of the pieces to ensure he was looking at the real thing. It was all carefully worked. None was raw nuggets or the like. There were rings of several sizes, each with odd cuts and small holes as if designed to fit into something and be locked in place. He fit one that was close to the proper size over his finger and slipped it into place. Around the outer circumference was an indented gouge that was detailed with a series of very precise and unusual symbols. The other pieces were shaped like curved strips, four to six inches long, also with odd markings and precisely located holes and cuts. Heck compared a couple of like items and couldn't see the slightest difference between them, but he could begin to guess what they might be for.

  "Found it inside an old wooden cartridge box stashed away with the ammo for the rifles," Silas replied. "The gold was inside with a couple of other items. Thought it might be more ammo when I lifted the box and felt how heavy it was."

  Heck picked up more of the gold. There had to be five or six pounds of the stuff. He had no idea of the purity, but it was clearly harder than pure gold. Even so, it'll bring them a considerable sum when they sold it. It appeared their luck was changing.

  "What do you think of the writing?" he asked his partner.

  "Dunno," Silas replied, setting down a couple more bundles near the oversized pile he'd already created. "Chinese, maybe?"

  "It's not Chinese," Heck said with certainty. "I seen a lot of Chinese writing a few years back and it don't look at all like this."

  "Well, it doesn't matter much. We'll probably just melt it all down and sell it as soon as we can find a buyer. Dollars are far easier to spend than oddly shaped lumps of metal."

  Heck twisted the band he still wore on his finger. He hated mysteries, and would like to know the purpose of the strange find. After a few minutes, he turned away from the gold and picked up the lever gun and one of the strange .22s as well as the Colt handgun he'd taken from the body of one of the men he'd buried.

  "Let's see how these work," he suggested. "Then we can start packing up what we'll keep."

  Heck took an immediate liking to the Colt revolver. It was clearly more powerful than his heavy Dragoon, quicker to load, and much more comfortable to carry with its five inch barrel. He decided he'd be using it from now on. They only had found a single box of cartridges for it, and he'd used more than a dozen rounds trying it out, but more could be purchased somewhere along the way. He also liked the fact the gun produced far less noxious smoke when shot, as did the rifles.

  The lever action was straightforward to operate, but kicked horribly. Silas turned away after firing a single shot, indicating he'd stay with his Sharps. Heck was fascinated with the powerful weapon, but agreed that a steady diet of the powerful rounds wouldn't be much fun.

  It was the little .22 that surprised them most. It took considerable fooling around to get it to fire, and then it scared the both of them. Heck was advising Silas, watching to see what levers and controls might have to be adjusted when his friend managed to set it off. Instead of a single bang, three sharp reports in rapid succession echoed back from the tall cliffs.

  "Did it fire more than once?" Silas asked. gingerly taking the weapon away from his shoulder and setting it down pointed downrange.

  "Can't see how that could be," Heck said, but here's the proof. He picked up three spent brass cases that hadn't been there a moment before. Clearly the rifle had fired and re-chambered another round and fired again. Three times.

  "Why'd it stop at three?" Silas asked. "That steel box has twenty of them cartridges in it.

  "Couldn't say," Heck replied, clearly mystified and somewhat unhappy. He prided himself on his knowledge of firearms, and this was something he'd never encountered before.

  "You try it," Silas said. "See if it does the same for you. Maybe I was too heavy on the trigger."

  Heck sat down on the rock that Silas had been using as a seat and aimed carefully at the tree limb some fifty feet away. Using a careful feel, he slowly added pressure to the trigger, intent on firing a single careful round. He was rewarded with another trio of shots, just as Silas had been.

  "Damn thing must be made to do that," Heck said. "Can't see why, but it's a tame weapon to shoot. Probably doesn't do much damage."

  "I don't know," Silas said. "Have a look where you were aiming."

  Heck had lost sight of his target in the surprise of having a string of rounds being fired. Now as he looked at the tree limb, he saw that considerable damage had been done by the three tiny bullets.

  "There's a gunsmith in Dodge that I know from before," Heck said. "I want to ask him about this one if we get out that way." He carefully stripped the box holding the cartridges from the weapon and fumbled until he could eject the loaded round he knew would be in the chamber. Satisfied the weapon was empty and couldn't cut loose unexpectedly, he handed it to Silas while he picked up the much heavier lever gun.

  It was mid-afternoon by the time they had everything packed and ready to go. They couldn't take it all, but the weapons, a couple of blankets, most of the food Silas had selected, and of course the gold, now packed in their saddlebags was going with them. Heck had carefully packed the heavy Dragoon away, after checking to be certain the hammer was secure in the notch between chambers so it couldn't set off one of the percussion caps. He didn't want to pull the bullets, a lengthy process, and for now he'd like to have it ready in case he needed it.

  The mule, and even their horses were heavily loaded as they rode away from the strange vehicle that had provided them shelter. They still knew next to nothing about the strange object, and they hadn't even learned the names of the men who they'd buried.

  "I feel bad about the gold," Silas said.

  Heck knew what Silas meant. The supplies were much easier to justify taking. They would be taken by whoever found them, as the original owners were gone. The same was true of the gold, but that was money, and it felt a little like robbing the dead. He absentmindedly twirled the band of metal he still wore on his finger. Unlike Silas, the feeling wouldn't last long. They had no means of finding any next of kin, and leaving it was simply foolish.

  Before they passed out of sight, Heck couldn't resist a last long look back at the small shiny object that held so many mysteries. Several hours later they heard an extended deep rumble in the sky fr
om back toward the ship portended another storm. Heck glanced back that way, but he saw only clear skies.

  Chapter 3

  "I told you Deadwood would work out for us," Heck said a couple of days later as they started up the incline heading back into the mountains.

  "Deadwood didn't have nuthin' to do with it," Silas answered, knowing Heck was referring to their newly found affluence as represented by the gold they still carried in their saddle bags."

  "Sure it did," Heck argued. "If we hadn't gone to Deadwood, we never would have come across that strange vehicle where you found the stuff." He twirled the band on his finger, still puzzled by the odd symbols which he stared at frequently as if intense scrutiny would reveal their meaning.

  Silas knew from long experience it didn't make much sense to argue with Heck. His partner was a bit of a philosopher, and had some strange ideas about many things. At least, that was how Silas saw things. Heck would just make up reasons to support his position, whether they made sense or not, and independent of where there were facts to support his belief. Silas decided to change the subject.

  "I thought you were set on going to Dodge City?" he asked.

  "We are," Heck replied.

  "Near as I recall, Dodge is somewhere in Kansas. We're headed too much west to get there. I'm guessing we'll be in Colorado soon." With Silas, there was actually no guessing about such things. He always knew where they were and where they would end given their direction of travel.

  "Well, the direct route is a bit boring," Heck said. "More than six hundred miles of flatlands if I remember from the last time, and I figure there is more chance of selling off that gold in one of the camps in Colorado. Dollars are easier to spend than raw gold. We ain't in any hurry to be anywhere particular as far as I know. That's one of the advantages of our chosen profession."

  Silas shrugged. He should have guessed. Heck's plans were usually fluid, and he could easily decide that California was a better destination long before they reached Dodge. He didn't rightly care. He wasn't all that fond of Dodge City if the truth be known, although he'd been looking forward to a couple of days in one of the better establishments, spending some of their windfall. Mostly he liked moving around and hoped to find someplace they might do a bit of prospecting, so Colorado suited him just fine. Dodge City was a cow-town, and as far as he knew there wasn't any gold in the area. On the other hand, gold had been discovered in Denver and the mountains to the west some time ago, and many an independent prospector had found acceptable deposits to work and become rich as a result. Silas sometimes dreamed of getting rich enough to move back East, although deep down he knew he wouldn't be happy there and probably wouldn't do so even if he discovered the means.

  They encountered the Army patrol from Fort Laramie two days later. The thirty-man patrol looked to have been away from the fort for a considerable period, and Silas wasn't at all surprised to learn they'd had no luck locating the object of their scouting. The group had been easily detectable well before they rode close enough to spot the two mountain men, who'd stayed around mostly to see what they might learn from the group.

  "Indians?" Heck asked after the more formal greetings with the Lieutenant had been completed.

  "Hasn't been any real trouble," the Army officer explained, "but a number of ranchers started reporting sightings and the Major at the fort wanted a better understanding of the situation. We've seen indications they'd been around from their campsites, but in almost four weeks we've never actually sighted any of them."

  Heck asked about the mining operations, and was rewarded with a bit of an overview of the situation to the southwest.

  "Breckenridge is pretty active right now, with lots of independent claims in work in addition to the larger, more organized operations. Leadville has recently turned up a lot of silver, and so men are flocking to that area as well." The man also provided them a list of towns, many of them without formal names that were scattered about in the general direction they indicated they were heading.

  "Double Creek is two days ride?" Heck asked to be certain he had understood the officer.

  "It's a rather small place," the Lieutenant replied, nodding. "Another day or so farther on is Oakwood. You'll find it more able to provide you with supplies and meet other needs."

  "You didn't tell him about what we found," Silas noted as they watched the troop ride off, the last of the group more than a hundred yards away.

  "Couldn't see any gain to it," Heck remarked. "Besides, the Army can get pushy, and he'd want to know exactly what we found. Might even have wanted to search our gear, and might have wanted to confiscate what we took away. Man hasn't had much luck at his assigned task, and bringing in something like that might help him look more effective."

  Heck absentmindedly spun the gold band slowly on his finger.

  "Let's go," he said finally, as the last of the troop disappeared over the small knoll to the north, although sounds from the noisy band could still be heard easily enough. Silas shook his head at the noisy group, and turned his horse to follow his partner.

  Double Creek had been as much of a disappointment as the Lieutenant had suggested, but Oakwood was a different matter. With a population of over six hundred according to the posted sign, and a transient population coming and going from the gold fields that made its total residence much higher, it was an active place with lots to interest the two men. They checked into a boarding house that offered modest rates, and equally important a bathing room with heated baths. The water was lukewarm at best, but being clean was a refreshing change. Leaving their travel clothes to be washed, and wearing their only other garments, they headed down the street to seek out something to eat. Heck carried his saddlebags containing the gold and his Dragoon over his shoulder. They'd left all of their long guns at the inn under the care of the proprietor, seeing that most didn't carry such weapons in town, and he didn't want to leave them unattended in their room. At least half of the population was armed with some type of sidearm, which suggested there might be a need. Either the sheriff wasn't very effective, or there wasn't one.

  "What was it we ate again?" Heck asked as he and Silas returned after their meal to the small shop that advertised a willingness to buy gold. They had left one of the smaller rings for the man to examine and provide a quote. Heck knew they could have gotten more in Denver, but the additional return on the gold would probably be offset by the added expense in staying in a place like that. The deeper into gold country they headed, the less their metal would be worth, and the more any supplies they wanted would cost. He hoped to get an acceptable price here, and purchase some of what they would need, including another mule to carry it.

  "Said it was chicken," Silas replied, "but I have my doubts. Your cooking is a sight better than theirs."

  "I can see why they are cheap," Heck said. "We'll have to find a different place to eat if we plan on sticking around any length of time. A man could get sick eating that kind of thing too often."

  "You're thinking of stickin' around?" Silas asked, surprised.

  "Maybe a few days, if we sell off our gold. There's a couple of saloons, and a lot of traffic from the gold country. I'm betting there will be many feeling flush and not that savvy at cards who will drop much of what they dug out of the ground."

  Silas knew his partner had a way with cards, and in a fair game could more than hold his own. More than once in the past Heck had taken their last few dollars and grown it into a sizable stake that had kept them going for a number of months. Silas just hoped there was a better place to eat if they'd be here very long.

  "Let's see what the man says," Heck said as he turned into the shop they'd visited a bit earlier.

  "Gentlemen," the owner of the shop said upon seeing them entering. "That is a most interesting bit of gold you left with me. May I ask where you came by it?"

  "Traded a man for a horse up in the Dakota's," Heck replied without missing a beat. "Why?"

  "It has been carefully machined and marked for some purpose, and I was curious as to what it might be. I guess you wouldn't know if you traded for it."