The Return of Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid Page 12

“Where are they going?” Red Beattie complained. The night was very dark. The sky was overcast with heavy cloud cover. Clouds had lingered all day from the storm of the night before and were once again bunching and threatening another rain storm. Wind was picking up and dust was beginning to swirl around the horses’ legs.

  They had been following The Wildcats for over two hours; ever since they left the ranch house. It had taken a while to come down from the high country and get on their trail, so they were already quite a ways behind from the get go. They didn’t hurry after them, for fear of being noticed. They trailed along at a leisurely pace, taking care not to get too close.

  The encroaching darkness had enveloped them deeper and deeper into the gloom until they lost almost complete sight of their quarry. Only from time to time did they capture a glimpse of them, sky lined on a ridge or open horizon and sounds of horses hooves scraping against rock or creaking of saddle leather and chinking of bridles and trappings.

  They had been on the trail for over two hours and the going had gotten slower and slower. Their quarry was continuing to expand their lead ahead of them. It had been over a half an hour since the Beatties had seen or heard any sign of The Wildcats.

  “We shoulda followed ‘em closer,” Kirby complained. They were riding their horses at a walk. Riding in the dark was always dangerous. A horse could step into a chuck hole without the rider or horse seeing it. At more than a walk, a horse could easily come up lame.

  “Shut up, you fool!” Red ordered in a loud whisper. “You want ’em to hear us comin’?”

  “They’re so far ahead of us, they wouldn’t hear us comin’ with a twenty one gun salute,” Kirby said.

  “They may not be so far ahead as you think, Kirby, So can the talk.”

  “Just the same, I think we’ve lost them. Might as well go back.”

  “I think so too, Red,” Jonas added. “It’s startin’ to get cold and I think it’s gonna rain again tonight.”

  “How many times I gotta tell you boys I do the thinkin’ around here and I’m tellin’ you, we’re pushin’ on whether they’re close ahead or not. We keep goin’ this way, we’re bound to catch up to them sooner or later. If we don’t and I’m wrong, which I never am,” he gloated. “We’ll go back and wait for them at the ranch, They’re bound to come back there, but I’d rather keep them in sight out here. before any of them bounty hunters get them in their sights ahead of us. You understand me now?”

  “Well, yeah,” Kirby whined. “But why don’t we just go back and get in out of the cold now?”

  Red shook his head in exasperation. “I just told you.” He gigged his horse forward at a little faster walk.

  Simon Price’s Silver Dollar silver mine was located on the floor of a large basin ringed with high cliff like walls. Years of excavation had carved this basin out of what had once been high country covered with desert sand, cactus, and Joshua trees. The land had been dry and barren; totally unfit for the grazing of cattle, but Simon Price was never one to let land go to waste. Like King Midas who turned everything to gold with his touch, Simon Price seemed to have the silver touch.

  He had struck silver in the high country, years ago. He had mined it extensively taking out massive amounts of ore that he used to help build his empire. In so doing, he had created the great basin. All that was left of the mine now, was the shaft at the base of the east wall of the basin.

  A slight tinge of gray was just starting to appear in the sky above the east wall and above the mine entrance, announcing that morning would soon be approaching. But soon the dark cloud mass moved farther across the sky blotting it out. Rain drops started to fall and darkness still remained just as if it were still the middle of the night.

  Even though it was still night time, the buildings surrounding the mine appeared to be alive with activity. There was light in the windows of all of the buildings. There was a small building that served as an office building and another larger building that served as a makeshift refinery and smelter. Next to this building was a stamping mill. From up above on the top of the basin, a network of flumes brought water into the basin to power both facilities. Behind both of these buildings was an open lean-to type livery affair. There was room to shelter six horses and provide them with hay and grain.

  Standing parked in front of the stamping mill was what appeared to be a loaded freight wagon, for the wagon bed was covered with canvas and was somewhat off the floor of the wagon. Two teams of horses were harnessed and hitched to the wagon, indicating a heavy load, and ready to go. They were ground hitched with weighted anchors.

  Beyond the livery, a trail led to the north end of the basin slanting upward and diagonally along the side, winding gradually, providing the only way in and out of the basin.

  Normally an operating mine of this size might only have a couple of guards stationed at night and only a lantern or two might be seen, but with this much light in evidence of life, it appeared that there may be several persons present on the property. Granted, with morning approaching the mine manager might want to get an early start. That would account for the light on in the office. But, as for the rest of the area and the appearance of activity, that could be accounted for, if in fact, prisoners were being held as slaves in the mine.

  The loaded freight wagon being readied for movement this early was further indication that the mine was in full nighttime operation.

  The Wildcats were sure now, that they had come to the right place to find their friends.

  Kitty, Jeremy, and Kip had circled around the edge of the basin to the east side. They had taken ropes with them. They would find someplace to secure them on top of the basin and lower themselves down beside the mine entrance. They had chosen this side because, if there was any delay in making their descent, and the sun started to come up, at least they would still be in shadow.

  Cyclone and the others, across the way would keep a lookout while they climbed down to the basin floor.

  The raindrops had increased in speed and intensity as Kitty, Jeremy, and Kip made their way to the east side of the basin. By the time they reached their destination, they were caught in a full fledged downpour. Rain poured off the brims of their hats and streamed into their faces as they found places to tie off the ends of their ropes and start the descent into the basin.

  With one final look, checking the area below and seeing no one stirring about and one more quick glance toward the other side of the basin to make sure that Cyclone was still giving the all clear, they went over the edge and down the side.

  All went well, except for the mud and the sliding, but all three of them managed to lower themselves successfully without any incident or discovery.

  Now that they were in, they knew they had to act fast. The ropes they had lowered themselves down on were still fastened tight at the top and there was no way they could hide or dispose of them. The ropes would have to hang there in plain sight. If someone were to come along and see them, Kitty’s, Jeremy’s and Kip’s presence would be known immediately and someone would come looking for them. They would have to hope that the darkness would hide the evidence of their entrance long enough for them to do what they had come there to do and get out.

  Kitty had no way of knowing whether the prisoners were billeted in one of the buildings for sleeping purposes or not, but, knowing Simon Price as she did, she suspected he would keep them in the mine and work them as much as possible. She didn’t think he would care much about sleeping quarters for his prisoners. The only light in the mine tunnels would be lanterns or torches. Prisoners wouldn’t know whether it was night or day anyways.

  She opted to search the mine first. They slid along the muddy wall of the basin, keeping in darkness as much as possible and approached the entrance to the mine.

  They were within a few feet of the entrance when the doorway of the office building opened up. Light flooded out into the rain. Two men emerged carrying lanterns. They were both wearing slickers and hardhats. Their heads were down, shield
ing themselves from the rain and they were talking loudly so they could hear each other above the sound of the pelting rain. But, even as they came near the mine entrance, Kitty couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  The two men came within a foot and a half of the three interlopers as they passed them by and entered the mine. Kitty and her companions held their breath and pressed their backs harder against the wall of the basin.

  As the two men hunched over and lifted their lanterns to enter the mine, Kitty saw their faces plain. She had all she could do to refrain from letting her breath out and gasping in surprise, but somehow she managed. One of the men she recognized was Conrad Price; Simon Price’s son.

  Conrad didn’t look much like his father. Where Simon was a bit rotund with a round bulldog like face, Conrad was thin and spindly. He had a long lean face, heavily pockmarked from a childhood illness. His chin bone was sharply pointed. His neck was long and thin with a pronounced Adam’s apple that bobbed up and down when he spoke. His eyes were dark and droopy reflecting the lack of intellect. Where his father, Simon was shrewd and calculating, Conrad was just plain dumb.

  The last she had heard, Conrad was managing his father’s silver mine in Colorado. What was he doing down here in Arizona, working this old mine? Long before Simon Price had destroyed Kitty’s father and stolen their ranch, Kitty had despised Conrad Price. He was a slimy, lecherous, self centered, piece of crap, hardly worthy of being called part of the human race. But, so was Simon. As the saying goes about the apple falling from the tree. But there was something different about Conrad. Where his father was just plain evil and dangerous, Conrad was just weak and disgusting. Without his father, he couldn’t function. Perhaps, that was why he was no longer in Colorado. The other man with Conrad was Peso Martin.

  Kitty peered around the corner of the entranceway and saw the lantern lights seemingly becoming smaller as the men traversed farther down the tunnel. The echo of their footsteps was becoming fainter. She motioned to the others to follow and stepped into the tunnel. Following Conrad and Peso seemed like a good bet as far as finding the prisoners.

  Kip placed his hands on her shoulders, halted her and stepped in front of her, assuming command and the lead. He could see the faint smile of acquiescence and subservience on her face. She leaned close behind him, her left hand flat against the middle of his back. All three of them had their guns out and at the ready. They moved forward slowly, stealthily, as silently as they could. Only the sound of trickling water seeping through the ceiling above remained. Every other sound of movement seemed to be magnified in the confines of the underground.

  It was only a few moments before the lantern lights up ahead disappeared, leaving Kip, Kitty and Jeremy in total darkness. They kept moving along steadily, keeping one arm out to feel the wall beside them with one hand. Eventually the tunnel seemed to widen out but actually it was merely branching out into three tunnels. It was totally black in all directions. Which way to go? They all stood motionless, listening, straining, trying to discern some clue as to which way to go.

  Then faintly, they seemed to hear the sound of metal chinking on rock and the muted echo of human voice off to the left.

  They moved off into this corridor, trying to move a little faster, daring not to light a match and trying not to make a sound that might announce their approach.

  “I’m beginning to wish they had hung us instead of this,” Bud Geary complained as he swung the pick axe one more time into the tunnel wall. A hunk of rock cracked and fell at his feet. He had to step back to keep the falling debris from showering down on his bare shoulders. His shirt was off and sweat and dirt caked his young lithe body.

  He lowered the pick axe, letting the head rest on the ground with the handle up, He removed one hand at a time and rubbed his sore blisters.

  “No one said you could rest, prisoner!” One of the two guards who oversaw this part of the tunnel, shouted. He snapped a whip with a warning crack, coming within inches of Bud, but not touching him. “Get back to work!”

  Bud grimaced and got back to swinging the pick axe.

  The other prisoners had kept working. They had been through these tirades many times before and the outcomes had always been the same. Guards prevailed and prisoners kept working.

  This part of the mine was well lit so the men could see to work.

  “Someone is going to wish they had hanged us,” the young man named Francis said to himself as he continued to pound large clumps of rock into small pieces. He hadn’t seen a trace of silver since he’d been there.

  There were eight prisoners working this part of the mine. Four of them had already been there when Francis and his three friends had arrived the day before. He didn’t know how long they had been there, but they all looked gaunt, worn out, and mal- nourished.

  From time to time, when he dared to catch a glimpse of his laboring friends, he could see that Pete Garvey and Garth Pearson were already wearing out.

  They had scarcely had anything to eat since they had been there and hardly any sleep at all; if you could call a few minutes of respite on the hard mine floor, sleep.

  There had been times when Francis had dreams of being a famous gunfighter like Billy the Kid. He had thought there was glory to be had in using a gun. But, he had learned that he was not brave nor courageous, but a normal average person with fears and hopes like anyone else.

  He had hoped that he would never use a gun again, but now as he looked around at his friends and other unfortunates in this god forsaken hell hole, he knew that if he were ever to survive this injustice, Frankie the Kid must be resurrected as a real person, not a cardboard, fake, caricature, hero. Fear and ego must be put aside and justice must be done.

  “Did I hear someone say they’d prefer to hang?” Peso Martin said grinning as he and Conrad stepped into the work area.

  “Good, Good,” Conrad chimed in after him. “I’m glad everyone is enjoying the work.” He laughed gleefully. No one dared to stop working long enough to acknowledge the taunts.

  To the guards Conrad said, “Listen up. I’ve got instructions for you,”

  Kip, Kitty, and Jeremy had moved along the dark tunnel until they saw the light from the mine work area spilling out into the corridor. There was no sign of Conrad nor Peso, but they could hear them. They hurried and gathered close just outside the work area. The voices could be heard clear now.

  Conrad was saying “The wagon’s just about ready to go. You know what to do. You take it to the same place as last month. Follow the same instructions. You got that. As soon as your relief men get here we’ll send them down and you can come on up and take the team.”

  “We’ll see you then,” Conrad concluded, Then to Martin. “Let’s go, Peso.”

  Realizing the two men were about to go back into the tunnel, Kip, Kitty, and Jeremy, turned and scampered away from the lighted area back into the darkened gloom of the tunnel. The only thing they could do, was find a wide spot in the tunnel, spread out, and flatten themselves against the wall, hoping that as the two men passed by, they wouldn’t be holding their lanterns high enough and in the right position to cast light on them.

  They each picked out a crevice to slide into. There, each one waited silently, careful not to breathe; careful not to make a sound.

  Moments dragged on. Finally, Conrad and Peso appeared in the tunnel corridor. They were both holding their lanterns low, as they had before, shining the light on the floor ahead of them, watching their steps. So far, so good.

  Closer and closer the two men advanced along the tunnel, their boots thudding against the tunnel floor, echoing loudly in the darkness. The lanterns swung back and forth with the swagger of each step. The beams of light bouncing against the base of the walls on each side of the corridor.

  The two men were in deep animated conversation, obviously in a heated argument about something, as they approached the figures pressed so tightly against the tunnel walls. The echo of the cavern muted their words somewhat an
d could not be discerned, but it seemed to be something about Peso Martin being there to boss Conrad around, which the spoiled offspring of the great Simon Price did not like.

  Conrad and Peso passed by the hidden intruders without the slightest hint of their presence. They continued to argue all the way down the tunnel until they disappeared at the turnoff where they would continue on to exit the mine.

  After waiting a few minutes to make sure Conrad and Peso was gone, Kip and Kitty slipped off the wall like melting wax. Even in the darkness, they seemed to sense each other. They found one another and slid into each others arms, embracing and breathing sighs of relief.

  Meanwhile, Jeremy had slithered off the opposite wall and joined them, though not quite so intimately. None of them could see any of the others, but each one knew each of the others was all right. Jeremy was sure Kitty and Kip were more that all right, but he wasn’t quite sure he was all right with that part of the situation, though.

  “What now?” Jeremy whispered.

  “Do what we came for,” Kip said resolutely. “Get those boys out of there.”

  Kitty could feel his body separating from hers as he turned away. She turned with him and Jeremy followed close behind. Almost as a single body they moved off into the dark.

  “Who’re you?” The larger of the two guards snapped, spinning around and taking his attention off the prisoners. He dropped his whip and snatched his pistol from its holster riding on his right hip. He waved it menacingly.

  The other guard had been slower on the uptake, but followed suit and went for his gun also.

  “Hold it! Hold it!” Kip Dalton said, holding his hands out in front of him, palms forward in a calming motion. “We’re your relief shift.”

  The prisoners had stopped working at this intrusion. Frankie and his friends recognized Jeremy right off. They glanced from one to the other and went back to work along with the others when the guard ordered them.

  “No one told you birds you could quit working!” The guard shouted. “This ain’t none of your affair.”

  Then to Kip and Jeremy he said “How come I never seen you before.”

  “We’re new,” Kip said. “Came in with Peso Martin.”

  “He didn’t tell us nothin’ about it,” the guard grumbled.

  “Since when did Peso Martin tell you anything?” Kip answered.

  “Well, you got that right. But Price didn’t tell us neither.”

  “Since when does Peso tell Price anything?”

  “I guess you do know the score after all. You must be on the level.” The guard said.

  “Of course I am. You’d better get going. That wagon’s waiting for you.”

  The guard put his pistol away and turned to the other. “He’s right. We’d better get going.”

  The other guard holstered his weapon and as the two guards walked past the assumed relief shift to leave, Kip and Jeremy wheeled on their heels, drawing their pistols and swinging them in wide arcs to bring them down in crashing blows on the backs of the two guards’ heads. Their hats caved in, crushed and fell off. Blood trickled from their scalps and dripped down their necks.

  Kip and Jeremy quickly sheathed their weapons and dragged the two men farther into the mine and off to the side where they couldn’t readily be seen by anyone entering the mine.

  By now all work had ceased. Jeremy was just standing up from having dragged the men aside, when his friends surrounded him. They were patting him on the back and reaching out to shake his hand. It was like a fight to see who could shake his hand first and Jeremy was a bit overwhelmed. Through the dirt and the sweat and the tiredness in their faces, there were smiles of joy. Their friend had come to rescue them.

  Had Jeremy had time to think, he would have remembered that the last time he met up with these four boys, they weren’t exactly his friends. To tell the truth he really wasn’t sure what they were.

  “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa,” Jeremy said, pulling away from them and trying to settle them down. “Settle down if you want to get out of here. Listen up. We have to move fast. There’s two guards on their way here and we’ve got to be ready.”

  The boys stepped back and settled down. “Who’s he?” Pete Garvey asked, indicating Kip.

  “Kip Dalton. He’s helping us.” Kitty had just walked in. Every head turned in her direction.

  “Kitty!” They almost all exclaimed in surprised unison.

  “Any other questions can wait until later. Right now we’ve got to get busy.” Kitty said, dismissing their exuberance.

  Kip explained the plan and offered the other prisoners a chance to go with them. Two of the prisoners were old men and would be a liability to them if they went along. Still, he knew Kitty would not permit him to leave them behind. He had to offer.

  The two old men knew the score and declined. Kip was relieved, as were the others. The other two prisoners declined also. They were afraid. Afraid of being killed escaping, or worse yet; being caught escaping and being thrown back into this hellhole.

  Even to herself, Kitty was glad that they only had to concern themselves with getting their own out. Besides, she had not considered the possibility of other prisoners and had not discussed that eventuality with Cyclone. He would be waiting on the rim of the basin to shoot at anyone he didn’t know.

  It was just as well the other prisoners did not opt to go with them. Perhaps, someday, she could come back for them and free them.

  By the time the real relief guards arrived, the other two were still unconscious and had been tied hand and foot with whatever materials could be found.

  The new guards were taken quickly by surprise. They were gun whipped unconscious and tied in the same fashion as the others. All of the guards were stripped of their gun belts and side arms. Each of the boys strapped them on. They had never worn guns prepared to kill before, but this time would be different. They would be fighting for their lives. They would no longer be punk kids. Live or die. they would be men this time.

  Chapter Ten