"Marshal, I think I should go with you. Those old mines can be mighty dangerous," the blond young man said firmly.
"I appreciate that, Thad, but I need you to watch over the town." Matt glanced up from his checking the contents of his saddlebags, spread out on the small square table in the office. Seeing the disappointment on his deputy's face, he thought for a moment and after closing the repacked leather bags, straightened up and faced him. "Well, you DO have experience with a gold mine, and I can always use a good man. Go check with Sam to see if he'd mind watching over things while we're gone, and if he can, I'd appreciate your company." Matt shook his head at the memory of Kitty's gold mine in Pickaxe, and how Thad and he had rescued her from that strange squatter trio.
"He said it would be fine, Marshal. I, er, I already asked him, Sir." Tall enough to be able to look his employer in the eye, Thad put his shoulders back, kept his head up, and waited.
Matt silently studied the handsome, determined face. "Let's get going, then!" Picking up the saddlebags, a full canteen, and his Stetson, he strode towards the door as Thad scrambled to grab his gear, unable to suppress a small, satisfied smile. With his long-legged stride, the young man quickly caught up with the Marshal, and they entered the stable together. Both tall men went over to their nickering horses, and spread out their thick saddle blankest across the animalss' broad backs. Both horses' muscled hides rippled in anticipation, and the big Buckskin snorted warmly on his master's neck. Matt affectionately rubbed his hand on the horse's forehead, then turned to lift the heavy saddle from the stall's nearby top rail.
"That you, Marshal?" the ageless stableman called from the far corner. Holding a three-pronged, wooden hay fork, Hank walked over from a stall, his sharp blue eyes narrowed in the leathery face beneath his small, battered, bowler hat. "Oh, it IS! Good! And howdy, Thad. Thought I heard someone rustling around out here late last night before I closed up, but couldn't find nuthin' missin'."
"Can't be too careful, Hank, especially with the trail herds starting to arrive," Matt said, swinging up into the saddle of his eager mount that he had led outside. "Mostly just drunken cowpokes letting off steam, but you need to watch when they start shooting at the moon…or each other!"
"That's fer sure, Marshal. That's fer sure!" Hank shook his head as he headed back to the stalls still needing tending.
Thad politely touched the brim of his hat at the old man as he led his blaze-faced Bay from the stable, mounted, and followed the Marshal, whose horse was trotting towards the western end of town. Anxious to catch up and help find his two missing friends, he did not notice that his coiled lasso was missing from the right side of his saddle. He had no way of knowing that the noise Hank had heard had been a drunken trail hand stealing the lasso for an impromptu roping contest in the empty lot down the street. Taft Crown and three of his friends had made a wager on their roping accuracy, using an old hitching pole in the center of the lot, and the stolen rope was still hanging there.
The two men rode along in companionable silence for a few miles, anxious to reach the mine, but wanting to keep their horses at a steady, non-stressful pace. Cresting the last rise, they paused beside the anvil-shaped rock, and studied the boulder-strewn landscape below, searching for the mine entrance that Matt had told Thad would be there.
Rising up straight-legged in the saddle, the tall young man squinted down in confusion. "Marshal? Where…" His head spun to the right in surprise as the Marshal spurred his horse down the steep incline towards a fresh, twenty-feet-tall pile of large boulders where the mine entrance should be. When he reached the pile, Thad swung his right leg over the saddle horn, jumped to the ground, and clambered up to where Matt was standing on the top.
"There's no way in here, Thad," he said in a frustrated voice, "so I'm gonna go down and circle around. You keep on going up over the top and look for any way in."
"Yes Sir!" Before he hurried on his way, the lean young man glanced back at the fresh tracks of where a buggy and horse had been by the cave's entrance. His throat felt dry as his eyes followed the footprints of a man and a woman that led up to where the massive pile of boulders lay. No need to ask the Marshal how he knew that Kitty and Festus were inside. Thad's long, strong arms and legs quickly took him up to the flat top of the hill, and he stood still for a moment, surveying the barren, rocky dirt and weeds. "Sure doesn't look promising," he thought, but started slowly walking, carefully examining the ground ahead. Halfway to a cluster of brush in the distance, he stopped, took off his hat, pulled a bandana from his rear pocket, and wiped at the perspiration on his face. As he pushed the cloth back into his pocket, he felt the ground under his right foot give way.
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The water was still rising after Festus helped Kitty to her feet. They stood together, arms around each other, balancing on the slippery boulder, Kitty's eyes wide in concern, and the hill man's squinting and desperately searching the dark interior for any escape. When the cold water reached Kitty's waist, Festus pulled her tightly against him, looked down into her frightened face and whispered, "I'm sure sorry, Miss Kitty. I caint even tell ya how sorrowful I feel 'bout getting' ya inta this fix."
Swallowing hard, the young woman gave him a quavering smile, and put her fingertips up against his lips. "It's all right, Festus. It's just not our day now, is it?" She knew that when the relentless cold water finally covered her head, and despite her and Festus' best efforts, she would die, that her last conscious thoughts would be of Matt. Her sorrow was more for him and how he would never find her nor know what had happened to her. Closing her eyes, she saw his handsome, rugged face with those clear blue eyes that had seen her as no one else ever had. When she reopened her eyes, the deep pools of sorrow in them hit Festus like a physical blow.
"Miss Kitty…I…" His words were interrupted by a shower of rocks and dirt that fell nearby from the domed ceiling, splashing into the rising water. Both he and Kitty looked up, wide-eyed, at the frantically wriggling brown boot attached to a long, tan pant leg.
"THAD?! THAD! Is that you?!" Festus yelled, hoping that the long leg belonged to his very tall young friend.
To be continued…