“Jim!” Ellen screamed. “Don’t you touch him.”
Only it wasn’t him. Vaguely, the dead man resembled her Jim. Same build and height, but this man was older by a good ten years and he was a lighter shade over his cheeks and chin, like he’d been freshly shaven.
The outlaw released her for an instant and she slapped him across the face. She tried to run, but he returned her slap with a far stronger one that left her seeing stars. Her vision swam. Overcome by blackness, her knees weakened and she fell.
She woke as her hands were bound with rawhide. Then they hoisted her up over a horse’s saddle.
One of the mine guards came out into the open. He froze, and Bannen killed him with three bullets.
“Let’s go,” Bannen said. He rode in the lead with Ellen’s horse tied behind. The other man, the bigger one, John, was in the rear. They set a hard pace, first through the trees and then across the open valley toward the mine.
“Someone coming up behind,” he said.
Bannen looked back over his shoulder. He snapped off a pair of quick shots.
Ellen glanced back. Her heart leaped. Jim. His magnificent Appaloosa was eating up the distance with every stride.
“Take care of him,” Bannen growled.
The stream lay ahead, and when they crossed it, the big man cut out and drew his rifle.
“Jim, look out!” Ellen said. “He’s got a rifle.”
She tried to slow her horse, but Bannen yanked the bridle savagely. Shots rang out behind them, the boom of a rifle, the crisp whap of a pistol. Ellen kept staring back over her shoulder; no one came up out of the streambed.
North and east, Bannen skirted town and made for the mine.
A hundred yards from the gate, he dumped Ellen on the ground before securing the horses.
“C’mon, let’s go,” he said, and snatched her to her feet. “You send those guards home when we get to the gate.”
Bannen put the barrel of his pistol against her ribs. The guards called out to them when they approached.
“It’s me,” Ellen said. “Mrs. Heston.” She hesitated before going on. She could tell them what was happening. Bannen would kill her, but he would never see an ounce of that gold.
“Those children of yours,” Bannen whispered. “They’re missing a father right now. One wrong word and they’ll be without a mother as well.”
“Mrs. Heston,” the guard replied. “Get the gate open for the boss.”
The guard was young. He stepped out from the gatehouse while his partner swung the gate open.
“Just the two of you here?” Ellen asked.
“Yes ma’am,” the first said. “Captain Neill took the others when he saw that Bannen fellow riding up through the pass. He said we were too young to go defend your place.”
“He needed us to watch over the mine,” the second guard said. “Said it was important.”
“It is, and I thank you for it,” Ellen said.
She realized then just how young they were, younger than Colton even.
“Say, who’s this fella?” the second guard asked, and gestured at Bannen.
Ellen started to speak, but Bannen shoved her aside. His pistol came up. Fire and smoke leaped from the barrel as he shot down the two guards.
The quickness and violence of it stunned Ellen to silence.
“Now, Mrs. Heston,” Bannen sneered, “let’s go find that gold.”
Chapter 33
Cord Bannen couldn’t believe his luck.
He’d started the day with a long-shot gambit. They’d succeeded in reaching the cabin before Jim Heston. And instead of using Jim Heston to force his wife to surrender, he’d convinced one of Dale’s friends to take his place. Then his men had been overcome by numbers when he struck the cabin and, just as the plan failed, Mrs. Heston had foolishly run out and put herself into his hands. Now he had the woman and soon enough he’d have the gold.
“The safe. Take me to the safe,” he said.
“You didn’t have to kill those men,” she said.
“I’ll kill more if you don’t take me to that gold.” He replaced the spent cartridges in his pistol and waved it in front of her.
“It’s down in the mine,” she said.
“Then lead on and don’t try anything.”
Gun at her back, the woman led the way deep into the bowels of the mine. The shaft was narrow and dark; Bannen forced her to carry a lamp into the black. Cord felt the walls closing in around him. He did not like mines, never had. With only the small lamp to light their way, they walked for a long time. He counted every second.
“How far?” he asked.
