couldn’t believe it. He had lost the gold, and who knew how many good men were dead down there?
Suddenly he realized he hadn’t seen Cain in the last few moments of that fight.
He whistled for the Ovaro, who showed up a moment later. Using his horse to steady himself as he stood, he managed to get mounted and slowly work his way down the hill, not really wanting to look at what lay ahead.
But he did.
Six of the ten bushwhackers were down. It looked like three of the six men from the mine were also down. And Fargo could see the three remaining men crouching beside a man in a red plaid shirt. Cain.
It took Fargo only a moment to get out of the rocks and to the road.
It turned out that two men were dead and Cain was seriously wounded. Fargo knelt beside his friend. Cain was out cold and his breathing was shallow from the wound in his upper chest. The men had already tried to stop the bleeding. Cain might live if they got him help.
Fargo stood, ignoring his own wound and pain.
The gold was gone. Daniel, Cain’s own son, had led the attack. Why would a good kid like Daniel turn on his own father? None of this made sense.
Fargo knew what he had to do. He turned to the three surviving guards and picked the biggest one, Hank, who seemed smart and had gun sense. Cain trusted Hank; now Fargo was going to trust the big man with Cain’s life.
“Hank, can you get him back to Placerville on your own if Cain’s on your horse?”
Hank glanced at his boss and nodded. “I can get him there in just over an hour.”
Fargo just hoped Cain would live that long.
“Good. Don’t take him to the mine. We need the Brants, who are the people behind all this, to think Cain has been killed.”
“That was Daniel with them as well,” Hank said, shaking his head. “Makes no damn sense.”
Fargo didn’t disagree. “Take Cain to the back door of the Wallace Hotel and ask for Anne. Tell her I told you to put Cain in my room and swear her to secrecy. Then get the doc to fix him up and swear the doc to secrecy as well. Then, if Cain makes it through, be darned sure he stays in that room until I get back there, even if you have to tie him to the bed. Guard him with your life. Understand?”
“Got it,” Hank said.
Fargo and the other three men turned back to work on Cain to get him ready to travel.
“Get that shirt off him, and his hat. Switch them with another man’s.”
They quickly followed his instructions. Cain moaned slightly as they boosted him up on Hank’s horse and tied him in sitting up behind Hank, making sure that his wounds weren’t bleeding badly. Both of Cain’s legs were roped to the saddle, and he had a rope tied around his stomach holding him tight against Hank. With a hat pulled down low over his face, no one would recognize him.
Cain moaned again as Hank started back up the road toward Placerville. Moaning was a good sign as far as Fargo was concerned. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if his good friend died.
Fargo then turned to the other two men, one of which was the big muscled kid named Walt. “Round up the horses and get these bodies to the morgue in Sacramento. Then report to Marshal Davis about what happened. Tell him I’ll be contacting him shortly. If he asks, or anyone asks, no matter who it is, Cain is dead. Understand?”
Both men nodded.
“Find a place to lay low and tell the marshal where you’ll be. Tell no one what happened. Don’t leave until I find you.” He handed both of them enough money to cover their rooms and a few drinks and meals, and again they both nodded.
With that, Fargo climbed up on his horse, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.
“Where are you headed?” Walt asked. “You need to get that shoulder looked at.”
The kid was right. At some point he was going to have to get his shoulder looked at and cleaned up. He’d do that in Sacramento.
“Right now I have a wagon to follow and a debt to settle. Just do as I ask and I’ll find you in
Suddenly he realized he hadn’t seen Cain in the last few moments of that fight.
He whistled for the Ovaro, who showed up a moment later. Using his horse to steady himself as he stood, he managed to get mounted and slowly work his way down the hill, not really wanting to look at what lay ahead.
But he did.
Six of the ten bushwhackers were down. It looked like three of the six men from the mine were also down. And Fargo could see the three remaining men crouching beside a man in a red plaid shirt. Cain.
It took Fargo only a moment to get out of the rocks and to the road.
It turned out that two men were dead and Cain was seriously wounded. Fargo knelt beside his friend. Cain was out cold and his breathing was shallow from the wound in his upper chest. The men had already tried to stop the bleeding. Cain might live if they got him help.
Fargo stood, ignoring his own wound and pain.
The gold was gone. Daniel, Cain’s own son, had led the attack. Why would a good kid like Daniel turn on his own father? None of this made sense.
Fargo knew what he had to do. He turned to the three surviving guards and picked the biggest one, Hank, who seemed smart and had gun sense. Cain trusted Hank; now Fargo was going to trust the big man with Cain’s life.
“Hank, can you get him back to Placerville on your own if Cain’s on your horse?”
Hank glanced at his boss and nodded. “I can get him there in just over an hour.”
Fargo just hoped Cain would live that long.
“Good. Don’t take him to the mine. We need the Brants, who are the people behind all this, to think Cain has been killed.”
“That was Daniel with them as well,” Hank said, shaking his head. “Makes no damn sense.”
Fargo didn’t disagree. “Take Cain to the back door of the Wallace Hotel and ask for Anne. Tell her I told you to put Cain in my room and swear her to secrecy. Then get the doc to fix him up and swear the doc to secrecy as well. Then, if Cain makes it through, be darned sure he stays in that room until I get back there, even if you have to tie him to the bed. Guard him with your life. Understand?”
“Got it,” Hank said.
Fargo and the other three men turned back to work on Cain to get him ready to travel.
“Get that shirt off him, and his hat. Switch them with another man’s.”
They quickly followed his instructions. Cain moaned slightly as they boosted him up on Hank’s horse and tied him in sitting up behind Hank, making sure that his wounds weren’t bleeding badly. Both of Cain’s legs were roped to the saddle, and he had a rope tied around his stomach holding him tight against Hank. With a hat pulled down low over his face, no one would recognize him.
Cain moaned again as Hank started back up the road toward Placerville. Moaning was a good sign as far as Fargo was concerned. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if his good friend died.
Fargo then turned to the other two men, one of which was the big muscled kid named Walt. “Round up the horses and get these bodies to the morgue in Sacramento. Then report to Marshal Davis about what happened. Tell him I’ll be contacting him shortly. If he asks, or anyone asks, no matter who it is, Cain is dead. Understand?”
Both men nodded.
“Find a place to lay low and tell the marshal where you’ll be. Tell no one what happened. Don’t leave until I find you.” He handed both of them enough money to cover their rooms and a few drinks and meals, and again they both nodded.
With that, Fargo climbed up on his horse, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.
“Where are you headed?” Walt asked. “You need to get that shoulder looked at.”
The kid was right. At some point he was going to have to get his shoulder looked at and cleaned up. He’d do that in Sacramento.
“Right now I have a wagon to follow and a debt to settle. Just do as I ask and I’ll find you in
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