Chapter Eleven
Previously: Conners would have told him to 'act like a man', or something along those lines, only the shadow turned towards him. Conners' face paled as he felt the same sensation Miller had just experienced-except he had the additional feeling the apparition was also ready to beat him to a pulp. In no time at all, the man was practically sliding down the ladder and joining Miller in fleeing the barn. As they did so, both men could have sworn they heard laughter coming from the loft.
~oOo~
Heath, Jarrod and Benjamin, who had been doing their best to follow Conners and Miller, stood at the edge of town watching as Miller and Conner let themselves into a home through the back door. While the house meant nothing to Heath and Jarrod, Benjamin wasting no time in educating his two friends. "That house belongs to Mr. Tagen, have to be meeting him."
"Can't be doing that," Heath surprised Benjamin, "the man's not in town." He almost told Benjamin about Nick playing around with the wheels of the stagecoach, but decided against it. There would be time later for telling such stories. "Never seen men run as fast as they did, could have caught up with them otherwise." The whole time he was speaking, he was also grinning from ear to ear.
"Yeah, I'd say they just had some wonderful exercise." Jarrod, like Heath was smiling wide. No one had to tell them why the two men had bolted from the barn so fast.
Benjamin caught onto what the two brothers were silently acknowledging. While a portion of him still didn't know what to think, the other portion wanted to laugh as well. How he wished he'd been a fly on the barn wall when his departed friend had scared the daylights out of Tagen's men. "Well, at least we know they're definitely working for 'that' banker." "Though, without drawing more attention than we got by trying to keep up with them, we can't corner them now. What are we going to do?"
While Heath, Jarrod and Benjamin tried to come up with a plan, Conners and Miller were having their own, very heated, discussion in the middle of Mr. Tagen's oversized kitchen. One cupboard after another lined the upper portion the north wall, while the west and east walls had cupboards that started the center of the walls and ran until they connected with the cupboards on the north wall. There was a huge sink on the west wall and an oversized cook stove that sat a few feet from the sink. Counter tops ran underneath the cupboards on the east and north walls. There was a huge table in the center of the room and a braided rug lay near the south wall. The kitchen itself was huge, ten feet wide and eighteen feet long to be exact. Why the banker needed such a large kitchen was beyond the two men.
"We've got to do something!" Miller, who stood inside Mr. Tagen's kitchen, said as he opened one of the kitchen's brown cupboard doors. He was hungry, and he figured their boss could afford to part with some of his food. "I don't know what's keeping Mr. Tagen, but he's going to show up sooner or later. He'll be coming after us if we don't get Mr. Barkley!"
"Don't tell me something I already know!" Conners, who had the same idea when it came to food, was standing next to kitchen table-which was just as oversized as the kitchen-fixing himself a sandwich. "But, what are we going to do without involving that brother of his or Mr. Mason?" He pulled out a chair, sat down and began to eat the food he'd fixed for himself.
"I don't know, but we have to think of something if we want to save our hides!" Miller snapped before he started eating what he had fixed.
~oOo~
The wind began blowing, kicked up dust as it did so, while the driver of the coach-a middle age gentleman with salt and pepper colored hair by the name of Samuel Jensen-tried to get the wheel fixed. His mood, which was sour enough, was not helped by the ornery banker he was having to listen to. If it wasn't for the presence of the other passengers-two women, a small boy and a good natured young man by the name of Jack Gilman, Mr. Jensen would have laid into Mr. Tagen for his bad attitude…especially since the extremely pompous man wasn't lifting a finger to help him or the young lad who was doing what he could to be of some use. As it was, Mr. Jensen and the young boy simply exchanged looks that told each of them that the feeling of 'Why doesn't that man simply shut up?' was shared by both of them.
Mr. Tagen, on the other hand, didn't care what anyone thought of him. All he wanted was to get to Modesto, to see for himself that Howard Conners and Tyler Miller had done as they had been ordered. He wanted to make Heath Barkley suffer before he was put six feet underground. "How long is this going to take?" He barked for the hundredth time. "I don't have time to sit around and wait!"
"Mister," Mr. Jensen, tiring of the pompous windbag behind him, whipped around and barked back. "You can do one of three things! One, remain silent until this nice young man and I are done. Two, shut up and actually help us; or, three, start walking!" Mr. Jensen turned back to the matter at hand, halfway wishing the man behind him would start walking. Though, he wasn't surprised when the banker simply stormed away in a huff, and then sat down on a nearby boulder.
"Maybe, we should find something else to 'fix' on the coach." Jack muttered without thinking, and then quickly apologized.
"Don't tempt me." Mr. Samuel winked as he grinned at the young man. That reply had both men fighting to keep their laughter to a controlled chuckle, neither one wished to deal with Mr. Tegan should he hear their laughter and connect it to him.