Chapter 34
After reaching Poncha Springs, Conn and Sheffield easily located the Sierra Perdida Mine, the mouth of which yawned at the base of a hillside that formed the end of a small ravine.
They stayed back. Even from their vantage point in the trees above the ravine, they could see fresh tracks coming and going from the mine.
They had ridden this way, dipped down into the ravine, and gone straight to the opening of the mine. Other tracks went up the hill and out of sight.
Conn guessed they were stashing their horses back there.
“Keep watch,” Conn whispered. “I’m gonna go see if their horses are over yonder.”
Sheffield nodded. He’d tied his horse out of sight and crawled up to a tree that had fallen at the edge of the slope. He had his rifle handy.
Conn swept wide, staying out of view in case the men came out of the mine.
There was a lot of stuff down there in the ravine—piles of wood and debris, boulders, old stumps from fallen trees that had probably been cut up and burned when this was a working mine—lots of places for Toole and his men to hunker down and fight if they spotted him.
Conn rode back and sure enough, there were the horses. Four of them. Which meant all four men were likely in the mine now.
This was it. His chance to kill the men most directly responsible for the murder of his brother. Toole and Duncan and the other two, Turpin and the one they called Dog.
Once he killed them, it would be nine down and two to go.
He rode back to Sheffield and explained his discovery.
“What do you want to do?” Sheffield said. “Sit here and wait for them to come out or go in after them?”
“I’m going in,” Conn said. “Right now, we got the element of surprise. They won’t expect us. Besides, if we wait for them to come out, they have a lot of cover down there.”
Sheffield nodded. “Makes sense. Plus, what if they come out piecemeal? We shoot one or two, say goodbye to that element of surprise. Let’s go take them right now.”
Conn was grateful to have Sheffield along. He was a good man, a steady hand, who’d dropped everything and risked his life to help a man he didn’t even know, despite having concerns about his own son up in Stump Run.
Yes, he was a good man, and once they were finished, Conn would certainly ride up the line to check on Junior. And no matter what they ran into up there, Conn would help Sheffield just as unwaveringly as the man was helping him now.
Even if the man was willing to help him, however, Conn hesitated. “Might be a lot of lead flying around in close quarters down there. You could stay here with the rifle and cover the exit in case they try to run out.”
Sheffield shook his head. “I didn’t come all this way to sit this out. Let’s go get them.”
Conn tied the gelding back by Sheffield’s horse. He patted his pocket to make sure he had matches and grabbed the lantern and tied it to his belt. He checked his Remington, left the hammer loop off, and took a close look at the H&R. He left the Winchester in its scabbard.
Sheffield stayed in position with the rifle while Conn descended the slope close to the mine so no one could glance out and see him coming.
He went slowly, careful not to dislodge any stones that might go bouncing down and alert the murderers.
Once Conn was in position, aiming the stubby coach gun at the mouth of the mine, he gestured to Sheffield, who came down the same way.
A moment later, they were ready to enter the mine.
Conn listened but heard nothing.
Maybe they were asleep in there. He hoped so.
He wasn’t in this for a challenge or to prove himself in any way. This was an assault in the name of vengeance. He hated these men and just wanted to put them down.
But he couldn’t count on them being asleep, so he didn’t light the lantern. Better to go in there and move slowly, keep listening and keep watching for light.
He stepped beneath the heavy timbers framing the mouth of the mine and into the dim, dusty passageway. It wasn’t very wide. He took solace in that, knowing his scattergun would cover the entire passage. Anyone coming the other way would face certain death.
He moved slowly forward, stopping frequently to listen.
Sheffield stayed back several feet and went to the opposite wall, a smart move in case anyone opened up on Conn.
Silence reigned then seemed to deepen as Conn descended the ramped passageway into deeper darkness. He wished he could light the lantern but knew he couldn’t, so he inched forward, keeping his right elbow against the wall.
When he felt the wall curve sharply in the passageway’s first turn, he experienced a twinge of unease, a powerful foreboding that stopped him for just a second.
Was someone waiting for him just around this corner?
He listened hard and heard nothing, not so much as a muffled breath.
Then, shotgun at the ready, he turned the corner, ready to fight.