Chapter 15 – Sudden Ending

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"Tim," Artie said, as the group approached the stable car. "Climb up there. You and I need to talk for a while." Tim climbed up the broken ramp and stood in the car, looking at the horses. Artie climbed more slowly, pausing as Cobb gave him a shove from behind. "Hopefully we can get that ramp fixed soon."

Tim looked at the horses, stepping up to pat a hand down the palomino's rump. The horse blew at him, twisting its head to look back at the stranger. "Nice horse. Glad it didn't get hurt either. And that's a nice chestnut there," he said, looking at Artie's horse a few steps away. He looked down at the post, with the handcuffs still attached. "You want to lock me up out here?" His eyes stayed on the floor, not looking up at Artie.

Cobb walked past, holding the feet of one of the dead men. "Need to check those bracelets. Don't think they work too well."

Tim grinned, "oh, it's not them, its John." He snorted, "don't know how he does it but he can work them bracelets off of his wrists. Seen him do it before."

"Great trick," Artie growled, "He should do parties." He took a deep breath and looked at Tim. "So this is the deal, young man. My partner has gone after John. He will want to speak to you when he gets back. I'm not sure how long that will be so I need to lock you up out here. We'll feed you, water, whatever you need. And I can stay out here with you. But I'm tired and it's been a long day and as soon as I sit down, I'm going to fall asleep. So will you cooperate and let me hook those handcuffs to you?"

"Am I under arrest," the young man said quietly? "I ain't never been arrested before."

"Well," Artie said "let's just say you are being detained." Tim looked up at him quizzically. "Put on ice? Short term storage?" He smacked Tim in the shoulder, "Look, you haven't injured anyone as far as I can see. And you haven't given me any trouble. I just want to keep you for a while so my partner can talk with you." Tim nodded and quietly sat down in front of the pole. Artie knelt behind him and quickly unlocked the handcuffs. He moved them around Tim's wrists and closed them with a loud click. He yanked on them but the metal appeared locked in place. "Ok, Tim, you just relax for a while." He squeezed the man's shoulder and stood up.

"Mr. Gordon," the fireman said, "do you think we should pull these here knives out of this feller's throat?" The man poked at the knife handle, making the dead man's head wobble. "They sure are stuck in there. I wonder what they hit to kill him so fast. Did he choke? Did it go into his brain?"

Artie walked over to the corner of the car and knelt between Cobb and his assistant. "I think he died of fright. I know I almost did just looking at this." He reached out to push the knife handle down, feeling the tip scrape bone, "right into his spinal cord inside his neck." He yanked the handle up and pulled the knife out. Then reached over to pull the second one out, "Two to the spinal cord in almost the same location." He sighed, looking at the long, narrow blades. "She will want these back."

Cobb kicked the other dead man, "and you put two bullets in this one," he drawled. "You think people would know not to enter that train car. It never works out for them."

Artie stood, holding the knives. "We could post a sign, 'Enter at your own risk'". He nodded, "I'll go through their pockets later. I want to check on the child. Can one of you stay out here for a few minutes?"

Cobb nodded to the fireman and the man darted away, jumping out of the car onto the ground. "He'll fire up a good head of steam, then we can switch places. Take your time."

Artie nodded and moved out of the stable car and into the varnish car. He paused at the first door, to toss the bloody knives into a ceramic bowl in his room. Then he hurried to Jim's room. He could hear Mary crying inside as he opened the door.

"What's all this noise in here," he said quietly, moving to Mary as she sat in Christians' lap. The two were sitting in the center of Jim's bed, holding onto each other. Mary turned large, watery eyes to Artie.

"Oh, I was so scared," she cried. "I could hear yelling and loud noises." She held her arms out to Artie as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Now, now," he said, pulling the child closer. "It's not that bad. We yell and make loud noises all the time around here. But I need you to stop crying and help me do something very important."

The girl wiped her wet face and looked up at him. "What?"

Artie smiled down to her, "we need to find Sophie. I want to make sure she didn't jump off the train in all the excitement. I hope she is just under the couch. Do you want to help me look?"

The child jumped off the bed, filed with sudden energy, "oh, Sophie?" She scampered from the room and raced down the hall to the varnish car's living room, calling the kitten's name.

"You certainly calmed her down quickly," Christian said. "She was hysterical."

Artie grinned, wrapping his arms around the woman's narrow waist. "I have a way with crying, hysterical women." He kissed her, and then pushed her away just far enough to look down into her eyes. "I thought I told you to hide. The one time I needed you to be invisible and you end up standing next to me." He tried to sound stern but his voice broke, "why did you come out there?"

Christian wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer, her face against his cheek. "I was so afraid for you. I didn't think you could stop all three. I had to do something."

Artie said, gently kissing her neck. "This is my work. I have ways of taking care of things." He pulled back again, "but I did appreciate the help. You were incredible." The young woman smiled up at him at the compliment. "I guess you can take care of yourself too. Those knives were…," he made an elaborate shudder and cringed. "I have your two knives back. Hate to see empty loops on your belt."

Christian laughed and leaned against him, "you will have to tell Jim all about this. He thinks we are useless and weak and stupid…"

"And in the way," Artie laughed, "and not really agents. Well, you convinced me." He leaned down to kiss her again as Mary reappeared in the doorway.

"I found Sophie," the child announced, holding out the kitten. Artie twisted around to look at them, relieved to see the cat unharmed and still on board. "She was under the couch, just like you said, but she came out when I called to her. She is really smart. I'm going to get her some milk now." The child turned and moved down the hall, hugging the animal to her face. A loud crashing sound came from the kitchen and Sophie came dashing back into the bedroom to hide under the bed.

"I think you need to go save my kitchen," Artie said, standing and pulling Christian to her feet. "And I need to go talk with young Tim." He kissed her again and then leaned down to pat the kitten's head as the ears pocked out from the edge of the blanket's hem. "Glad you're safe, Sophie," he said. Then he moved to the hallway and back toward the stable car.

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Jim's eyes searched the darkness for the loud snapping sound he had heard. A shadow moved between some trees and his hand clenched the small grip of the handgun. A flash of white moved a few feet further back. He started to rise but Lori hissed at him from the other side of the fire.

"Jim", she said, "its two antelope. Can't you see them?"

Jim turned to look at her, seeing her pointing farther to the left. He turned back just as a small deer stepped out into the moonlight from behind a tree. "I was looking further to the right. I think there are a couple more." He watched a small herd appear out of the shadows and move behind the horses. Blackjack blew at one that got too close and the smaller animal bolted away. "Tomorrow we may need to shoot one for supper, it we are still out here messing around."

"Camping out with you is so much fun," Lori drawled. "I do one to point out one thing," she paused, waiting for Jim to settle back down. "I want to take John alive," Lori said softly, her pale eyes watching him over the low fire. "You don't need to increase your death rate on this trip."

"I am against killing," Jim said, pausing as the girl snorted, "Unless the other person is trying to kill me. Man or women." Lori raised an eyebrow at the last word "Not that I have killed a women," Jim added, "yet."

"Whatever," Lori said tiredly. She pulled off her coat and leaned down onto the horse blanket near the fire. She reached down to her right boot and pulled out a long, double-bladed knife. She laid it over her stomach and pulled the coat over herself. Then she reached out with her right hand, pulling the shotgun closer to her side.

"All tucked in for the night?" Jim said, watching her arrange her weapons and hands. "That's a lot of weaponry for someone you want to take alive."

"Or maybe I just don't want you bothering me tonight," she said, lying back and closing her eyes. "Either of these would leave a mark."

Jim laughed, standing up, "well you can just stay away from me too then. I'll be up here in the woods, sad and lonely. Holler if you need anything." He picked up his canteen and Derringer and moved silently into the trees.

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"Artemus," Cobb whispered, nodding toward the agent. "I hope you don't mind but,' the engineer had stopped the agent as he walked into the stable car, "…but I let the young man help me with the horses. I never unchained a prisoner before but he was crying and it was breaking me all up inside, I tell ya."

Artie's eyes watched Tim in the dim recess of the stable car, brushing his chestnut horse. The man moved slowly and carefully, speaking softly to the horse. "well, I suppose it was all right, Cobb. You have the shotgun and we are going pretty fast. He wouldn't want to jump out the door in the darkness." He glanced toward the open wall of the stable car. The doorway, usually shut when traveling, was an ominous black rectangle.

"He and I have been doing a lot of talking tonight," Cobb said, "I was hoping you would spend some time with him. He seems to be a good, young man. Just fallen in with a bad crowd, you might say."

"That's often what happens," Artie nodded. "Let me have the gun and you can go back up front. We must be approaching a town soon. I have been seeing lights ahead."

Cobb nodded, handed the shotgun to Artemus, and walked to Tim. He stood close, speaking low to him, and then moved out the further door which lead to the engine. Tim lowered his head and stood quietly as Artie approached.

"Cobb doesn't usually speak to our guests, much less unchain one we have detained," Artie said quietly. "He is also a hard man to impress. He tells me you seem like a decent young man that may deserve a second chance." Tim shifted his feet and still kept his eyes down. "Why don't we sit down and relax for a few minutes. We will be in a town soon. Let's make a plan before we arrive," he said, waving a hand to the floor. He waited for Tim to sit down, his back against the grain bin. Artie sat too, keeping the shotgun across his knees, but not pointing at the young man. "So tell me how you started to run with this gang of smugglers?" The boy just shrugged. "Ok, let's start with something easier. Do you have any family? Parents? Brothers or sisters?"

Tim took a deep breath, "Ma died last year. My Pa died in the war. Ain't got no one else but my cousins." He wiped a hand over his nose, "after Ma died, I went to live with my cousins. They're a lot older than me, by a good ten years. They is twins," he said, looking up at Artie now. "They look just the same. Kinda creepy. They act the same too. I didn't feel right living with them. They didn't work, and they would steal food from the neighbors." Tim took a deep breath, "then I found this here fella that would give me a job, pay me money. So my cousins started working too. I thought it was all fine but now that fella turns out…well, that he wasn't so nice after all. And he wasn't the only one neither."

"Tim, can you tell me what you did for work?" Artie glanced at the doorway as a bright lantern buzzed past. Lights were glowing in the distance as the train approached the town.

"I started out taking care of the horses," Tim said, "John, the owner, has a big stable with lots of horses. Then I started driving delivery wagons from his house to a warehouse in town. And to the rail yards too." He tipped his head sideways, "you probably won't believe me but…"

"But what," Artie said, nodding for him to continue.

"Well, John had this here ledger book with secret codes in it and I would help him keep track of what was in the wagons." He grinned, "the other fellas could never remember what the codes meant, like gold and silver, but I could. I thought it was easy." He grinned, nodding to Artie. "It made me feel good to know I could use my brain. John said having a good, active brain was important." He sighed, "but that was before all this trouble started."

"What trouble?" Artie asked, relived to see that Tim was willing to talk, almost to relieve his guilty feelings. "Did the work out here change?"

Tim thought for a minute, and then nodded, "It started back east," he said slowly, "and it started with a woman too."

Artie chuckled, "that's usually how it starts." The train ground to a halt and then began backing up. "I think we are about to park at the train yards." He paused, noticing how Tim's eyes watched the activity outside. Taking a chance, Artie asked quietly, "would you like to help fix the train? It would be a good trade to learn…"

"Oh, would I," Tim exclaimed. "Mr. Cobb has been telling me all about it and he said if I was good and didn't cause trouble and worked hard for you, that you and your friend would let me stay on the train and learn how the engine works and…"

"Wow," Artie said, holding up a hand, laughing at the young man's enthusiasm. "Ok, you can do all that if you keep close to either me or Cobb. Agreed? And later, we will continue this conversation?" Tim nodded and they both rose, as men approached the open doorway.

An older man, chewing tobacco, peered in at Artemus and past him into the stable car. Spitting on the ground, he squinted up at the agent. "So what is it ya need fixed, mister?"

Artie rolled his eyes and pointed at the broken bits of ramp and metal hinges. "I would have thought it was obvious. I need a new ramp for this car. Can it get replaced quickly?"

The man spit again and scratched at his chest through a filthy shirt. "Oh, sure, sure, it can get fixed but I make no promises on how quickly it be done. This ain't no city here and we do good work. Fast work will cost you a bit extra," the man snickered, winking up at Artie. "Let's say ou and I do some dickering about the pay." He cackled again, stepping back and Artie jumped to the ground. Cobb appeared next to him and Tim climbed down too. Other men were soon crowding the area, many carrying lanterns, all looking at the private train car.

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Another twig snapped in the trees near the horses. Lori opened one eye and looked around the camp. The full moon was out, shining light down onto the small opening in the thin woods. The fire was now only coals, glowing next to her head. The heat still radiated from the cliff's face, helping to keep her warm. She closed her eyes, wondering if Jim was cold under the trees on the knoll above her.

She heard another crack of a twig and the movement of the horses. Another sound, closer this time, sent the hairs on her neck rising. She fought the urge to open her eyes, move, or even breath. Her right hand clamped hard on the knife's slim handle underneath her coat. She shifted her weight, as if in sleep, planting her heels into the gravel and moving her left hand to the ground next to her. Readying her nerves, she opened both eyes to see John leaning over her, his face close to her's.

In the split second of surprise, she pushed up to a sitting position, throwing the jacket off and raising her right hand. The moonlight glinted off the long blade. John recoiled at the sight of the knife, his hand grabbing at the shotgun.

"Don't move," Lori snarled, reaching for his arm.

John snatched up the shotgun and Lori stabbed the blade deep into his forearm. John cried out in pain and threw himself backwards, dropping the gun. Lori lost the grip of the knife as he fell over onto his back. She lurched after him but his boots came up, blocking her.

"Don't move," Lori said again, turning to grab the shotgun. John rolled away, pulling the knife from his arm, and turned back to attack her as she raised the gun up. She thumbed back the two hammers with an ominous double click but paused before aiming at John, seeing movement behind him.

"Stop," Jim said, wrapping his left arm around John's neck. He yanked back, pulling John off balance, taking him to the ground, backwards, in one movement. "You are under arrest, again," he said, "and…" his order ended in a grunt of pain as John stabbed backwards, piercing Jim's left side underneath his raised arm. "Stop!" Jim yelled again, as the sharp tip bit into his skin a second time.

Lori ran up and wrapped her arms around John's wrist and forearm, twisting. A loud snap was heard and John screamed, the knife falling from his fingers. His hand was bent at an odd angle to his arm. He fell backwards, in a twist of boots, landing on top of Jim, as they all crashed to the ground.

"Ahh," Jim screamed in anguish as the hot coals of the camp fire burned through his jacket. He twisted, shoving John away from him, and rolled off the coals. He lay on his side, his left arm clamped tight against his side, as his back smoldered.

Lori grabbed the front of John's coat, pulling him farther away from Jim. The man stumbled but brought up his uninjured hand, punching Lori across the face. She fell backwards onto the ground near her camp bed. John dove at the dropped knife as she grabbed up her shotgun, still lying on the ground near the fire.

Grasping the knife, he held the long blade towards her, moving closer. "Drop it, John. You've done enough damage for one night!" Growling in anger, the man charged her, drawing the knife up over his head as if to stab down at her.

"NO!" Jim lurched to his knees, bracing himself to jump John again but froze as he saw the shotgun rise.

As John reached Lori, she leaned back, bracing her boots in the gravel, and fired both barrels into his midsection. The man's body flew backward from the impact of the shot and landed near Jim on the ground. The body, bloody and twisted in its shredded clothing, expelled a long breath and was silent.

Jim shifted himself into a sitting position to look back at Lori. "You all right," he hissed between clamped teeth. He tried to study her face for bruises in the flickering light of the low fire.

"Ya," Lori said, opening the gun to pull the smoldering shells out. She put them in a pocket and jammed two new shells in. "You? How bad did he get you with my knife?"

Jim tried to look down at his side but couldn't see anything in the darkness. He started to move his left arm but gasped in pain. "Think I could use a bandage. Maybe two," he added, nodding toward the saddlebags. "Dig around, usually something…" he clamped his teeth shut and watched her move through slitted eyes.

Lori checked the leather pockets and quickly pulled out a roll of white bandages. She picked up the fallen knife and knelt next to Jim. "You cost me money, you know," she growled, leaning over to look under his elbow.

"Excuse me?" He gasped as he pulled his left arm away from his side. "You shot him."

"It's still your fault," she said. Ripping sounds came from his shirt and she pushed his jacket aside. "Oh, hell, take this off. I'm no nurse, I'll warn you."

"Can't cook, can't nurse," Jim muttered, as she pulled the sleeve of his jacket off his left arm. "Brings a knife to a gun fight and then shoots people." He breathed gulps of air as she pressed a square of cloth against his side. "How is it?"

"I can't see in the dark but it seems to be bleeding a lot. It's just on the side, over your ribs. I don't think it's that deep." She leaned around to wink at him, "He almost missed you."

"Funny," Jim grunted. He shifted his shoulders, "I think that damned fire was pretty hot too. I would have stayed in the trees if I knew you would just shoot him." He winced as Lori pulled his shirt from his pants and looked at his back. "What's it look like?"

"Looks like you may have some more scars to add to your collection," she said. "Don't the girls think your scars are exciting? I bet you have lots of stories for each mark." Jim snorted but stayed silent. "I was hoping you were going to use some ole James West moves that I hear about."

"I didn't realize you had given him your knife," Jim hissed. He peered at her more closely, leaning over to see her face. "Are you all right? I think your lip is bleeding." She touched a finger to her mouth and wiped her hand on her pants, shrugging. Jim sighed, shaking his head. "So why did you shoot him?"

"He came at me with the knife and I didn't have a second one to fight him with," she said, shrugging. She leaned close, reaching around his waist, quickly pulling a long bandage around his middle. She wrapped it tight, holding the bandage against the stab wounds. "And you were no help, passed out on the ground. So what's a girl to do?" Jim turned to look at her, again studying her face in the moonlight, as she tied the bandage ends. "It just cost me money, but who needs money, anyway."

"Cost you money?" Jim asked, surprised. "How?"

"Bounty isn't as high when I bring them in dead," she said, pulling his coat over his shoulder. She paused as she caught his eye. They were leaning against each other, breathing close. "But he will be easier to manage on the train." She sat back on her heels, watching him.

Jim frowned at her, "bounty? Secret Service agents don't get paid bounty money." His voice took on a hard edge. "If you were a real agent, you wouldn't receive bounties."

Lori's pale eyes glared back, her voice becoming sharp now too. "If I was an important agent like you and Artemus, living in a fancy private train car, I would get paid more. But part of my salary comes from who I catch. And you can ask Richmond about it when you drag your sorry ass back to Washington." She stood up and moved to John's body, looking down at him. The body was in the shadows of a large tree, hiding the bloody mess that was already smelling. "He will have to go on a horse to transport to the nearest town. Then I need to notify Richmond. He had wanted to interview him when I got him back, he wanted to find out about the shipments." She kicked the body in frustration.

Jim let out a long, tired breath, "John didn't seem to be the talkative type. You did what you could." He lay down on his side, close to the fire, and closed his eyes. He listened to Lori move around the camp, adding fuel to the fire. He opened one eye to see sparks flying up into the air, climbing the cliff. He drifted to sleep as he felt something being draped over his shoulder.

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The next morning,…

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Jim woke up to the smell of coffee. He didn't move, trying to place where he was. His head was on something soft but it wasn't a pillow. And his body was covered but not with blankets. He definitely wasn't lying on his bed. He cracked open his eyes and could just make up Lori sitting across the camp fire drinking from a metal cup.

"Good morning," she said, watching him. "You might not want to move too fast. I bet you're cold and stiff. You need to be careful of that wound."

"Coffee," Jim moaned, "just pour it down my throat."

"Sorry," Lori grinned, "this is my coffee. I didn't make enough for two."

Jim opened his eyes, seeing a towel folded under his head and her jacket over his shoulders. His legs were covered with his saddle blanket. He grimaced as he pushed himself to a sitting position. His left arm stayed tight against his side and he couldn't sit up straight. "Ow," he moaned. "Hurts."

"Hmmm," Lori said, not impressed. "My brothers get more inured in the hay fields so toughen up. We need to get to the train today. Artie can play nursemaid or maybe we can find a town with a doctor to stitch you back together."

Jim glared at her, "Artie and I stitch each other back together all the time. Even dig bullets out, usually in just arms and legs," he added. He paused, and winked at her, "though I don't think I want to go haying with your brothers." He held his hand out, wiggling his fingers, and pointing at the coffee pot. Lori picked up a second mug and filled it with the steaming liquid. "Thank you," he said.

"Well it's a good thing you at least didn't catch any pellets when I shot John last night," Lori said, "I wouldn't want to have to dig them out of your hide today."

"Me neither," Jim snorted, as he sipped his coffee. "I don't think Artie would either. There are limits to what one partner has to do for another." He started to stretch and then stopped suddenly, wincing. He caught Lori's eye watching him. "I have an expandable travois to hook behind a horse," he said, pausing.

"You think you're that bad?" Lori asked worriedly. "You don't think you can ride?"

Jim smiled, surprised at her genuine concern. "I can ride. The travois is for John. You blasted him in half last night. If we toss him over a saddle, he may split in two and I don't need to see that, if you don't mind." He nodded toward the saddle. "It's strapped underneath the back of my saddle."

Lori walked over and ran her finger tips along the back edge of the black saddle. "This is amazing," she said, pulling away thin metal rods held together with narrow leather straps. "You two have more gadgets…" She came back to the fire and unfolded the apparatus.

Jim grimaced, moving his right hand to his wound. He fingertips came away bloody. "Or maybe you will have to drag me back after all." The mug of coffee slipped from his hand and he slowly lay back down onto his side. Lori watched him and began pushing the metal rods together, guessing at how it was assembled.

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