Counterfeit
Chapter 12
He made good time getting back to Colter's house, which was just as well since it would soon start to get light. The trees and bushes here in the east were much thicker and taller than anything they had around Dodge. It worked to his advantage because it gave him excellent cover from which he could observe the guard stationed at the back of the house. The man was just standing there leaning against one of the columns that supported the back porch. Dillon waited in silence, hoping the man would move on or something would distract him, half an hour went by and he was beginning to feel the chill in the air that comes just before dawn. He had to make a move soon. Another five and then ten minutes had passed. Nothing for it but to make his own distraction. He just hoped that no one had locked the back door. He had got up early the previous morning on the pretense of not being able to sleep and found it to be unlocked with the same guard standing outside.
He felt around on the ground at his feet until he found a medium sized piece of rock. Using his right arm he threw it into a dense patch of undergrowth off to the left side of the house. The guard heard it but at first did nothing, just stood there alert waiting to see if the noise was repeated. Matt had just about given up hope when another of Colter's men who had been watching the front of the house came around the side and called to him.
"Hey Cade, did you see anything?"
The man known as Cade left his post and walked over towards the other man – it looked like they were holding a conversation, Matt took his chance and moving almost without sound made it to the back door. The men were still talking as he tried the handle. He could feel his heart beating faster and faster as at first it did not move, a little more force, then a little more and at last it gave in to the pressure and he went on in. For once he was grateful not to be wearing spurs as he made his way along to his room. He had locked it when he left and as far as he could tell no one had been in there.
It had been necessary to change into spare clothes that Quartermaine had given him, he didn't want to come down to breakfast looking like he had spent the night walking through the woods, neither did he want the house staff to find the clothes he had been wearing and wonder what had been going on. He decided to ball them up and push them in the bottom of the small leather bag he had arrived with, and that he pushed under the bed.
Breakfast was on the table when he arrived at the dining room where Colter and his "niece" were already seated. He overheard their conversation before he sat down and joined them. Something about Mr. Taylor would be here sometime today and to be sure to make herself available. He wondered if that was the 'William" she had spoken about. He had to get her out of here. He saw her glance up at him and then look down at her plate before Colter could see the pleading look in her eyes.
Dillon wanted to distract the conversation.
"Mr. Colter I have been here almost a week now and am somewhat impatient to get on with our business – I do need to start my journey home soon."
"The paper should arrive today, then printing will take about 3 days to finish, so it should not be too much longer."
Dillon was hungry after his night time activities and was enjoying the variety of meats and breads provided by his unsuspecting host.
A carriage drew up outside, and Colter was on his feet, "this should be my supply of paper and inks arriving now."
Dillon looked towards the window and saw a man descending from the carriage, he caught his breath when he realized he had seen him just recently in the basement of the treasury. William Taylor the apprentice was Josiah's supplier of paper and inks. No wonder the quality of his forgeries was so good – he was using the official materials to print them on. Now there was a more immediate problem –Dillon's unusual height gave him a big advantage as a lawman – but at the same time people easily recognized him. Now he had to think quickly. Fortunately that was something that also came easily to him.
A glance at the window showed that Colter's men were busy unloading the coach. It looked like the driver and passenger were coming into the house – maybe they would be here a while.
"We're leaving now, he told Jennifer, grab your things and be out front in five minutes. He hurried back to his room, grabbed the small case with the money and counterfeit plates inside, then walked as calmly as possible towards the front door. Jennifer was already standing on the front stoop, small bag in hand. Everyone else had gone into the dining room. They were standing there talking and drinking coffee. The apprentice known as William Taylor glanced around and saw him – a shadow of recognition crossed his face, he pointed and yelled to Mr. Colter.
Dillon didn't wait to see what would happen next, he charged out the front door, fortunately the girl had had the sense to quietly board the coach, and the door was closing as Matt leapt up onto the box and grabbed the lines to the team. He yelled and flicked the leathers to urge the horse into a fast start and headed straight for the main gate about a hundred yards away.
He heard gunfire behind him, and yelled to his passenger to get on the floor then saw the guards from the gate looking at him, they had obviously heard the gunfire.
He yelled to them, "Trouble at the house, Mr. Colter needs you!"
Their second or two's hesitation was all he needed. He was through the gates and out on the main trail. He knew they would have a few minutes before Colter's men could get saddled up and give chase.
He was watching the woods on either side. He knew the James River was around here somewhere but had no map. Somehow they had to get out of the area, by river or train it didn't matter – he needed to get himself and Jennifer away from here. At last he saw what he wanted, a very small path leading back into the woods with lots of cover on each side.
He pulled up on the lines and used the break to bring the horses to a stop, then he jumped down and opened the carriage door.
"Get out and go back down that path a way and hide, I will be back for you in a few minutes." He handed her the small brief case, which was all he had brought with him.
The young girl seemed smarter than he could have hoped and didn't need telling twice. He slammed the door and climbed back onto the box, urging the horses into a gallop. When he had them going well he let go of the lines. Seeing what looked like a soft patch of ground to his left he prepared to jump. He knew he had to be careful, a broken leg would be a real handicap at this point, but the few years of trail drives and bronco riding from his youth had taught him how to fall. He left the stage and curled into a ball trying to protect his head and keep his limbs tucked in. He hit the ground hard – it knocked the breath out of him for a minute but, when he recovered from that, he as pleased to find that he could stand without difficulty and felt only a few bruises and minor cuts as injuries. He stood and watched with satisfaction as the coach kept on going.
He doubted they had much time to get away. If the horses kept going, Colter's men would chase them – but once they stopped they would back track to find them.
He found the place where he had left his young companion and looked around. Something fell out of a tree in front of him. Not the girl he was looking for but a young boy in ragged baggy pants and a patched shirt that was several sizes too big. It was only the long dark hair that enabled him to recognize her. An old felt hat had fallen at his feet and he bent down to retrieve it and hand to her.
She laughed at his surprised look.
"Girls clothes aren't much good for someone on the run." She pushed the hat on her head and stuffed the curls beneath it. He couldn't help but smile.
"How did you..?"
"I've been planning to escape for a while and I have kind of stolen these clothes from when the house staff hung out laundry. I had them all ready. They will be looking for a neat well dressed young girl not a shabby street urchin. She had even rubbed some dirt over her face to complete the picture.
"Where did you leave your other clothes?"
"Up in that tree. Mr. Colter thought it strange that I would climb trees on the estate, but I had to keep in practice. She reached under a nearby clump of bushes and handed him the small case. He opened it, removed as much of the money as was real and shoved it in his pockets along with the stolen plates.
They heard the horses approaching before they saw them. Dillon tugged her back into the bushes before the men went by. They were following the stage.
"We need to get out of here," he said, leading the way further into the undergrowth. "Right now we need to get as far away as we can, then maybe look for a stage line or railroad.
For hours they made their way through the trees and tried to stay away from cart tracks and the few wooden buildings they saw. Matt realized they had no food or water, but fortunately it was not to hot and there were plenty of streams – small enough to step over, and they had both eaten well at breakfast. He tried to keep them moving west, using the sun as a guide, but was not sure exactly where they would finish up. Once or twice early in the day they had heard men and horses coming through the woods but were able to hide out before they were found. Matt knew from experience that if you were trailing someone, a large posse was less likely to find the person you were looking for than one or two people alone. All the noise and horses erasing their tracks probably saved them.
TBC