A minute passed, neither man moved. Sweat beaded on Red’s forehead and ran down his face. He shifted his eyes to Jim’s left. The beginnings of a grin formed. But Jim knew that trick too.
“If you’ve a friend here, one about to jump me, I want you, both of you, to know this,” Jim said. “First you are going to die, and I’m going to kill him afterward.”
“He won’t do it,” a voice said behind him.
Red looked into Jim’s eyes. His smile faded as whatever he saw convinced him otherwise. “Dunlap, he will. He absolutely will.”
“He won’t have time,” Dunlap called again.
Jim kept his eyes locked on Red. He couldn’t afford a distraction. His finger tightened on the trigger.
Red licked his lips. “He will. I know a killer when I see one. This one’s not for us.”
Then he raised both hands and took a step back toward the crowd. Jim covered him with the pistol until he turned and vanished into the mass of men. He kept the gun out, lifted high, and searched left and right for the man’s partner, the mysterious Dunlap. No sign of him.
With the danger passed, the miners went back to jostling their way up the street.
Jim eased the hammer down, but he did not holster his gun. He started on through to the assay office and, with men now keeping some distance, had an easier time of it.
* * * *
The only thing impressive about the assay office was its sturdiness. It was a squat structure, made from thick logs, with thick bars over its two street-facing windows and an iron-bound door.
Jim opened the door and stepped inside.
“Wasn’t sure you’d make it,” a man said from beside one of the windows. “You’re the third man Red’s done that to. The others weren’t so lucky.”
The speaker was a tall man, taller than Red even, but with a noticeable hunch that gave him a humpback look. His black hair was slicked down and plastered against his skull, greasy-like. Even his long mustache was oiled.
“Not sure how much of it was luck,” Jim said, and holstered his pistol.
“Ah, yes. The others weren’t so well armed and, forgive me for saying it, they weren’t so quick to violence, either.”
“They tried talking their way out?”
“One offered to buy Red a bottle if he’d step aside.”
Jim could guess how that had gone with Red. Badly. Very badly.
“They lived? Those two others?”
“Of course,” the man smiled. “Red isn’t so foolish as that. Dead men can’t dig.”
“Dig and find more gold for him to steal.”
“Ah.” The man’s smile widened. “An understanding man.”
“I try to be,” Jim said.
“Jacques DeMourey, at your service.” He eyed the saddlebags slung over Jim’s shoulder. “From your manner, I take it you have something for me?”
“I do,” Jim said. He didn’t offer the man his own name, but that didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.
“Good. Shall we weigh it up?” DeMourey moved to a desk with several scales and brass weights of various sizes resting atop it.
Jim followed. He took a seat across from DeMourey, opened the bags, and began drawing out the sacks of gold.
“That’s quite a lot. You’ve done well for yourself,” DeMourey said. He placed a pan on the scale, eyeing a needle to make sure it was in balance. Then he took up the smallest sack and carefully untied the top. He poured the contents slowly out onto the pan until the sack was empty.
He added several brass weights to the scale’s other side until it balanced. Then he examined the gold. He stirred the pan with a metal rod, rolling around a nugget the size of a pea. “Looks to be of good purity.”
“How much?”
DeMourey calculated some figures on a piece of parchment. “This first bag is worth six hundred.”
Jim’s breath caught. Six hundred dollars. That was far more than David had thought.
DeMourey smiled at him. “I take it you’re surprised by the amount.”
“A little,” Jim admitted.
“The price is up considerably. With the South being rebuilt after the war, there’s a real hunger for gold back east.”
That made sense, and it was a good thing for Jim.
“I usually don’t handle nearly so much as this. Most of the men we deal with bring in less than twenty dollars’ worth each day. It will take me some time to weigh up the rest of this,” DeMourey said. He looked at Jim over the scales.
“I’ll wait. Though I’d hoped to leave before nightfall,” Jim said.
