“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 lanternand 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.
35
Hidden with his men behind a pile of debris set back from the mine, Henry Toole lifted a hand to his mouth and stifled his giggle.
The fools!
He had them right where he wanted them.
It was a little uncanny seeing them sneak up there, meaning to kill him, especially the tall one, who looked just like his brother. It was like the man they’d hung had come back to life to have his revenge.
But Henry shook that off and readied the bundle of dynamite he’d had stowed in the old mine. Back when he’d hidden it here, he’d figured it would come in handy someday. And now here he was. And here it was, right when he needed it.
See that was the difference between him and everybody else. He was smart. They were dumb.
