Ransom
Chapter 7
Chester left Moss Grimmick's stables and half hopped, half ran along the boardwalk to the office of Doctor Adams. After taking the steps two at a time he was out of breath by the time he opened the door and almost fell inside.
Adams was replenishing his medical bag and looked up to see what all the commotion was about.
"Well good heavens Chester, is there a fire or something?"
"No it's worse than that Doc. Somebody's taken Miss Kitty and Mr. Dillon has gone off to find her, but.." the jailer's words were falling over each other as they tumbled uncontrollably from his mouth.
"Whoa now slow down and tell me what's going on." Doc had stopped what he was doing and was trying to follow what Chester was saying.
"Oh Doc, lookey here." Chester took the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and, in a fluster, pushed it at the physician. "Just read that, then, and tell me what you think it means." He started pacing the floor of the office while the older man read the note.
As Adams read his face became serious. He swiped his mustache a time or two and looked at the jailer.
"What did Matt say?" His manner was more somber now.
"He said not to follow him, he would see that Miss Kitty got back all right."
Now it was Doc's turn to pace the floor. He walked back and forth a few times.
"Chester I think you should go and find Sam and two or three good men and have them be ready to head out. You don't need to follow too closely – maybe wait until tomorrow. Whatever's going on it seems important that Matt is by himself – we don't want to upset whoever is doing this and cause anyone to get hurt unnecessarily."
Chester wasn't too enthused with the plan, he didn't want to have to wait all night worrying about two of the most important people in his life, but Doc had a point, and after all, his boss was a resourceful man.
xXx
When Matt came to, he found that his right hand was manacled to a bed. He lay still for a while trying to get his bearings. He hadn't opened his eyes yet, just used his ears to hear what was going on around him. He could hear voices, but they were not close by, maybe off in another room or something. He didn't want to let on that he was awake; any little advantage could be useful. After a few minutes he took the risk of looking around with out moving his head. The room he was in was poorly lit. He seemed to be, as he had already surmised, alone, but there was an open door leading to a second room from where the voices were coming. He listened more intently, trying to catch words or get some idea of who his captors were.
He shifted his head slightly and a waft of fragrance floated up from the pillow he was lying on, it was a very familiar scent. This must be where they had held Kitty. The whole episode from earlier came back to him, he had done his best to help her escape, he hoped she had managed to track down the buckskin, and at least ride to some form of shelter before nightfall.
He tested the strength of the restraint on his wrist and figured with a little time he might be able to loosen it. As he was studying it the light from the other room became blocked as the shape of a man partially filled the doorway. He couldn't see the man's face because the light was behind him, but he knew there was nothing familiar about him.
As the man came further into the room, the light played more on his face. It was not a face he had seen on any wanted poster. The man was smiling – not a pleasant, welcoming smile, more one of self-satisfaction.
"You don't know who I am do you Marshal?"
Matt pulled himself into a sitting position as best he could with his arm attached to the bed. He didn't reply to the question, figuring whoever this was would be telling him that anyway.
He was right because after a breath or two, the man continued
"My name is Mort Chalfont, you killed my brother Milo." Anger had replaced the smile on the man's face. "You shot him, Dillon, you killed him, but he died slowly and in pain. I sat with him for six days while he died. He was my twin brother, do you understand what that means?" The man's voice was rising in pitch, almost screaming by the time he uttered the last words. He took a breath and came over to the bed and looked closely at Dillon.
"I'm going to see that you die just like Milo did."
He reached out and swung his fist into the Marshal's jaw. Matt did his best to go with the punch to minimize its effect. Then swung his free left hand around to catch his attackers wrist. He misjudged the distance and Chalfont stepped back just beyond his reach and pulled his gun.
Matt could feel his lip bleeding but didn't put his hand up to it. He kept his eyes focused on the man, trying not to show any weakness.
"What did your brother do?" He asked in a calm, quiet voice, attempting to dampen the excitement in Chalfont's eyes.
"You shoot so many men you don't remember?"
"And you kidnap woman," Matt retorted, trying to sound calm and reasonable.
"I didn't harm her, and I kept my word about letting her go."
"It's a long walk back to Dodge." Matt was trying to keep the conversation going, he was not sure why but it seemed the prudent thing to do.
"I figured it would take her two or three days to get there, long enough for what I need to do."
"That's a long walk for a man. Almost impossible for a woman, it's about the same as killing."
"Don't you talk to me about killing. My brother's blood is on your hands and I am going to see you pay for it.
"You could undo this," he lifted up his manacled wrist, "and make it a fair fight."
The outlaw almost seemed to consider the offer for a minute. Then he turned back with renewed vengeance.
"You think you're clever trying to talk me into that. I know I can't beat you in a fair fight. I've seen how fast you are with a gun."
"How about fists, I'll fight you without guns."
"You'd win that way too."
"I'll take the two of you on." Matt indicated the man in the other room by nodding his head in that direction.
"My way's better, I'm going to put a bullet in your leg and watch you die."
The man raised his gun and took aim. Matt braced himself for the shot that he knew was coming, but it didn't; the man hesitated in spite of the vicious hate in his words. Slowly he lowered the gun, turned and left the room. Matt wished he had closed the door behind him, that way he could work on getting loose, but the door remained open.
xXx
Kitty led the horse off, up towards the crest of the rise. Once she reached it she stood there looking around. There was nothing familiar to get a sense of where she was. Matt had said to keep heading north, following the same direction the rise. She looked behind and then ahead to gauge her path. In doing so, she saw a medium sized boulder off to her left, and leading the buckskin towards it, suddenly found a reserve of energy. She had not eaten in about two days – fortunately the stream she had crossed provided clean water for drinking, even so a meal would be good.
Using the rock as a mounting block, she finally managed to haul herself up onto Matt's horse. There was no saddle – but a slow trot would not be too uncomfortable and it would be a lot faster than walking.
Even going at a trot, the animal covered a lot of ground, and after what she thought was an hour or so she began to think she had seen this landscape before. As she urged her mount forward she was wracking her brain and the further she travelled the more certain she became she had been here before. At last she remembered, the Simmonds place was near here. She had been helping Doc on one of his visits to deliver a baby. It must be two years ago now. The ranch was about 10 miles to the west, that would be in the opposite direction from where she was headed, but Dodge was probably three times that distance away. Maybe Hank Simmonds could send one of his hands to get help. They could ride a lot faster than she could, add to that it would be dark soon and she didn't want to campout alone here miles from anywhere if she could avoid it. She didn't want to make the wrong choice, after all Matt's life was at stake. She took a minute to weigh the options in her head then patted the buckskins neck, and headed west.
xXx
After Chalfont left the room, Matt closed his eyes for a while, his head still hurt from the blow he had received earlier, and he was physically tired from being in the saddle almost continuously for nearly two days.
He lay there as it grew darker, the distant conversation of the two men in the other room barely registering in his mind.
When he opened his eyes again it was almost totally dark. A dim oil lamp was burning in the other room but he heard no voices.
Carefully he moved a little and waited to see if the creaking of the bed brought any reaction. Nothing happened, everything was just as silent as before.
Carefully he felt along the manacle restraining his wrist. He figured out that the bed was just a wood frame, nailed together and supported on four short posts. The wood forming the frame had been too thick for one manacle to encompass, so they had fastened both cuffs around his right wrist with the chain connecting them going around the timber forming one side of the bed frame. If he could work the chain to a corner and loosen the join, he could perhaps free himself.
Carefully so as not to make too much noise he turned onto his right side and slid his free hand along the frame till he came to the corner. Whoever had made the bedframe had done a good job, he was not going to be able to pry it apart with fingers alone. They had removed his boots – probably looking for a concealed gun, but he felt along his left leg for the small bulge in his sock. He was almost jubilant to find the thin knife he had hidden there. It was not much more than a penknife, but maybe it would do the job.
Again he stopped and listened; no noises came from the other room. He went back to work, forcing the thin blade of the knife into the join at the corner. It was slow, he had to resist the urge to use it as a lever to pry the pieces apart, the blade was too thin and if it broke he'd have nothing. After a few minutes he knew this wouldn't work. The thin knife blade would not pry the nails out. He changed tactics and started trying to cut his way through the timber, cutting a V shaped incision in the wood and working it deeper and deeper, just whittling it out as he went. Is was a long and tedious task and a few times he had to lie on his back and rest. Only being able to use his left hand did not help. The good thing was if he could get about half way through he figured he could probably break it the rest of the way by force.
He began to hear the sound of people moving around in the other room and noticed that daylight was creeping into the old building through the many cracks in the walls. Carefully he folded the knife and slid it back into his sock. A little more work and he thought that a good bounce on the bed would break the timber that formed this side of the frame. Then he could slide the chain off and get free.
He rested a while, and thought about Kitty, hoping she had found the buckskin and made it back to Dodge before dark. He also didn't understand why Chalfont hadn't carried out his threat yet. He must know that help would arrive soon. Of course the man was presuming it would take Kitty several days to get to Dodge, so maybe he was dragging it out for effect.
xXx
Ben Walker had lit the small stove and started warming up some stew they had made the day before. He also put a coffee pot on to heat.
"You want me to feed him?" he called to Mort
"Yeh I guess so."
Ben Walker took a plate of food and a cup of coffee to the bedroom and set them both on the floor near the Marshal.
Matt tried to start a conversation with the man.
"Thank you," he said looking at the man. "What part do you play in all this?"
The man looked back over his shoulder. "Milo was my brother too, in a way. But …"
The man was interrupted by a call from the kitchen.
"Come back here Ben – no need to become friends – he won't be around long enough."
The man referred to as Ben turned and went back to the other room without a word.
"When you gonna do it Mort."
"When I'm ready,"
"You know if you kill him we'll have every lawman in the country looking for us."
"They won't know who we are, no one has seen us and we'll be gone before anyone finds their way here."
"Not if you don't start soon, remember it took Milo six days to die."
"Well, if I have to, I'll shoot him twice."
Milo took the tin plate his breakfast had been on and slammed it into a bucket by the door.
"You take care of the dishes and stuff and I'll go on and get it done."
TBC
