The Edge of Hell Read online

  “Kansas seed corn,” Perley answered casually. “I found a store in Deadwood that had about four hundred pounds of it. Ain’t nobody in Deadwood wantin’ seed corn, so I bought a hundred pounds of it at a damn good price. Gonna take it back to Texas and start me a corn patch. If I’d had a couple more horses, I’d a-bought all he had.” He made a point then of opening one of the sacks and taking out a handful to show Billy. “You can’t get corn like this in Texas.”

  Billy nodded his head politely, but was obviously unimpressed, which was the reaction Perley hoped for. Packed up and ready to go, they started the first day of their journey together, following the road toward Custer City, heading south.

  * * *

  The second night’s camp was made by a busy stream halfway between Hill City and Custer. By this time, Perley’s supply of smoked venison was down to only enough for another meal or two. Then it would be back to sowbelly, unless they were lucky enough to find some game to shoot. Perley was not inclined to tarry, considering the gold he was transporting. As somewhat of a surprise to him, he found Billy just as eager to put the Black Hills behind them, considering what he had said about his father.

  Curious, Perley asked him, “What are you aimin’ to do when you get back to Cheyenne? You think your pa really won’t be happy to see you back?” He couldn’t believe that Tom Tuttle would kick his son out.

  “Oh, I ain’t worried about that. I don’t wanna work in the damn stable, anyway. I’ve got a few ideas I’m thinkin’ about.”

  “What kinda ideas?” Perley asked.

  “Yeah, what kinda ideas?” The voice came from the darkness behind them. “Maybe stealin’ gold from your partners, stuff like that, huh, Billy?”

  “Don’t even think about it,” another voice warned when Perley started to react.

  He had no choice but to remain seated by the fire.

  A tall, gangly man stepped into the circle of firelight. He was grinning as he held a double-barreled shotgun on them. “Come on in, Jeb. I’ve got ’em both covered.”

  In another second, he was joined by a second man, this one a bull-like brute of a man. “Hello, Billy. I see you got you another partner already. It took me and Luke awhile before we tracked you down. Seems like you took off so quick, you must notta realized you took all the gold, instead of just your share.”

  “Whoa, now, Jeb,” Billy exclaimed. “You know I wouldn’ta done nothin’ like that. Luke musta buried it somewhere else and forgot where he put it.” He looked at the lanky man with the shotgun. “What about it, Luke? Ain’t that what musta happened? You were awful drunk that night.”

  His question caused Luke to laugh. “I gotta give you credit, Billy, you can make up the damnedest stories I’ve ever heard.”

  Jeb, who was obviously the boss, said, “We’ll see soon enough when we take a look at the packs on that mule.” He stared hard at Perley then. “Who’s this feller?”

  “His name’s Perley Gates,” Billy said, causing both of the outlaws to laugh.

  “Pearly Gates,” Luke echoed. “Well, ain’t that somethin’? Looks to me like he’s carryin’ a helluva lot more than you are. Maybe ol’ Pearly struck it rich back there in the gulch and now he’s packin’ it all outta here.”

  Perley spoke then. “If I had, I reckon I’d still be back there in the gulch, lookin’ for more.” Angry that he had been taken so completely by surprise, it didn’t help to learn that Billy had fooled him, too. Not only was he a thief, he had brought his troubles to roost with him.

  “Damn. He talks,” Luke mocked. “We’ll take a look in them packs, too.”

  “You’re makin’ a mistake, Jeb,” Billy said. “Pearly ain’t got nothin’ in them packs but supplies and some kinda fancy seed corn he’s fixin’ to plant. If you think I stole your gold dust, then go ahead and look through my packs.”

  “Oh, I will,” Jeb replied, “you sneakin’ rat. Luke, go through the packs on that damn mule. There’s five pounds of dust in ’em somewhere. That oughta be easy to find.” When Billy started to get up, Jeb aimed his pistol at him. “You just set right there and keep your hands where I can see ’em.”

  Caught in a helpless situation, there was nothing Perley could do but sit there while Luke rifled through Billy’s packs. When he glanced at Billy, he saw no sign of concern in his face. Maybe he really hadn’t stolen their gold, but it sure seemed like his former partners were convinced that he had.

  “Ain’t no need to make a mess of my stuff just ’cause you was wrong,” Billy complained when Luke started throwing his possessions around in frustration.

  “Shut your mouth!” Jeb yelled at Billy. “Look in his saddlebags,” he said to Luke then.

  “I told you I ain’t got your gold,” Billy argued. “Looks to me like maybe you oughta be askin’ Luke where that dust is. All I wanted was to get the hell outta that creek after you shot that feller. I figured you and Luke could have my share.”

  Jeb shifted a suspicious eye in Luke’s direction. “I don’t reckon somethin’ like that mighta happened, could it, Luke? I mean, we was all drinkin’ kinda heavy that night. Last thing I remember before I passed out was you holdin’ that sack of dust and talkin’ about what you was gonna buy with your share. When I woke up the next mornin’, you was already up and Billy was gone.”

  “Hold on a minute!” Luke blurted out. “You’re lettin’ that lyin’ son of a bitch put crazy ideas in your head. Me and you been ridin’ together long enough for you to know I wouldn’t do nothin’ like that.”

  “You looked through all his packs and there weren’t no sack of gold dust,” Jeb reminded him. “Whaddaya suppose happened to it?”

  “How the hell do I know?” Luke shot back, then nodded toward Perley, who was still a spectator at this point. “Most likely it’s in his stuff. Billy musta put it on one of his packhorses.” He turned and started toward Perley’s belongings, stacked beside his bedroll.

  “This has gone as far as it’s goin’,” Perley said, getting to his feet. “You’ve got no call to go plunderin’ through my things like you did with Billy’s. Billy just hooked up with me last night and he wouldn’t likely just hand over five pounds of gold dust for me to tote for him, would he? You can take a look at what I’m carryin’, but I’ll help you do it, so you don’t go tearin’ up my packs like you did with Billy’s.”

  His statement caused them both to hesitate for a moment, surprised by his audacity. Then they both laughed at his obvious stupidity.

  “Mister,” Jeb informed him, “you ain’t got no say in what we’ll do. It was bad luck for you when you joined up with Billy Tuttle. I’m tired of jawin’ with both of you.” Without warning, he said, “Shoot ’em both, Luke.”

  “My pleasure,” Luke said and raised his shotgun to fire. Before he could cock the hammers back, he was doubled over by a .44 slug from Perley’s Colt.

  Jeb’s reaction was swift, but not fast enough to draw his pistol before Perley’s second shot slammed into his chest. He was already dead when his weapon cleared the holster and fired one wayward shot in Billy’s direction.

  Billy howled, grabbed his leg, and started limping around in a circle. “Damn, damn, damn . . .” He muttered over and over as he clutched his baggy trouser leg with both hands.

  Perley holstered his .44 and moved quickly to help him. “How bad is it? Let me give you a hand.”

  “It ain’t bad,” Billy insisted. “I can take care of it. You make sure them two are dead. I’ll take care of my leg.”

  “They’re both dead,” Perley said. “Now sit down and I’ll take a look at that wound.” He paused then when a peculiar sight caught his eye. “What the—” was as far as he got before he saw a tiny stream of dust spraying on the toe of Billy’s boot, not understanding at once what he was seeing. When he realized what it was, he looked up to meet Billy’s gaze.

  “Looks like I sprung a leak,” Billy said, smiling sheepishly. “The son of a bitch shot a hole in my britches.”

  Perley said n
othing but continued to stare in disbelief.

  Billy tried to divert his attention. “Man, you’re fast as greased lightning. You saved both our lives. I ain’t never seen anybody that fast with a handgun.” He was hesitant to move his foot for fear of causing the gold to mix in the dirt beneath it.

  Perley’s gaze was still captured by the little pile of gold dust forming on the toe of Billy’s boot. “You caused me to kill two men you stole gold from,” he said, not at all pleased by the fact.

  A little more apprehensive now that he had seen Perley’s skill with a gun, Billy countered. “Let’s not forget that they was fixin’ to shoot us. There weren’t no doubt about that. I saw ’em shoot a man at a placer mine and take that little five-pound sack of dust. That’s when I decided that weren’t no partnership for me.”

  “So you cut out and took the gold with you,” Perley reminded him. “Looks to me like they had good reason to come after you.”

  “Well, they didn’t have no right to the gold,” Billy said. “’Specially after they killed him for it.” When it was obvious that Perley was far from casual when it came to the taking of a man’s life, Billy tried to change his focus. “I reckon you’ve earned a share of the gold, and I don’t mind givin’ it to you. I figure I’ve got about sixteen hundred dollars’ worth. That ’ud make your share about eight hundred.”

  When there was still no positive reaction from Perley, Billy tried to make light of the situation. “And that ain’t countin’ the dust runnin’ outta my britches leg.” He hesitated to make a move, still not sure what Perley had in mind. “All right if I see if I can fix it?”

  “I reckon you might as well,” Perley finally said, not really sure what he should do about the situation he found himself in. He was still feeling the heavy responsibility for having killed two men, even knowing he had been given no choice. The one called Luke had been preparing to empty both barrels of that shotgun. There had been no time to think.

  “I don’t want any share in your gold,” Perley said. “Go ahead and take care of it.”

  Billy’s expression was enough to indicate that he was more than happy to hear that. He immediately unbuckled his belt and dropped his britches to reveal two cotton bags, one hanging beside each leg from a length of clothesline tied around his waist. Perley could hardly believe what he saw. Jeb’s wild shot had drilled a hole straight through Billy’s trouser leg and the cotton bag hanging inside.

  “What about their horses and guns?” Billy asked as he transferred the remaining dust in the damaged bag into the other one.

  “What about ’em?” Perley responded, still undecided what he should do with Billy.

  “I mean, hell, you killed ’em, both of ’em. I reckon you’d be right in claimin’ you own all their belongin’s.” He glanced up quickly. “I sure as hell ain’t gonna give you no argument.”

  While Billy was busy trying to recover every grain of dust that had poured through the hole, Perley took an extra few minutes to think it over. He had to admit that he didn’t know what to do about it—a thief stealing from another thief. The part that worried him was the killings he had been forced to commit, and he blamed Billy for causing that. One thing he knew for sure was that he’d had enough of Billy Tuttle.

  He told Billy, “I ain’t ever operated outside the law, and I don’t reckon I’ll start now. Those two fellows were outlaws and you were ridin’ with ’em, so I reckon whatever they done, you were part of it. You’re sure as hell an outlaw, too. I reckon this is where you and I part ways. You take your gold and the horses, and anything else on those two. If your daddy wasn’t Tom Tuttle, I might be inclined to turn you over to the sheriff back in Deadwood, but your pa doesn’t need to know you got on the wrong side of the law. If you’ll go on back to Cheyenne and start livin’ an honest life, he’ll never hear from me about you bein’ mixed up with these outlaws. We’ll go our separate ways and forget about what happened here. Can I have your promise on that?”

  “Yes sir, you sure do,” Billy answered in his most contrite manner. “I ’preciate the chance to get myself right with the law. I’ve sure as hell learned my lesson. If it weren’t for you, I’d most likely be dead right now, so you have my promise.” He hesitated for a few moments, then said, “I don’t see no use in us splittin’ up, though. It looks to me like it’d be better for both of us to travel together for protection. Whaddaya say?”

  “I don’t think so, Billy,” Perley answered. “At least for me, I’ll be better alone. Good luck to you, though.”

  Chapter 2

  As Perley had insisted, they parted company, Billy to continue along the Cheyenne–Deadwood Stage Road, while Perley followed a trail leading west. He knew that it was less than a full day’s ride in that direction to be out of the mountains and back in Wyoming Territory, so he intended to turn back to the south once he cleared the mountains. That way, Billy should be well ahead of him on the stage road to Cheyenne. In the long run, it would delay him on his trip back to Texas, but only for half a day or so of the two and a half to three weeks he figured to take.

  His thoughts kept returning to Billy and the situation he had been caught in. Before they parted company, Billy had sworn that he had learned his lesson, and he was going to follow the straight and narrow from that point on. Maybe he would. It was hard to say, but Perley preferred to let Billy deal with his conscience by himself. He was already involved in the mixed-up young man’s life far more than he had expected when Billy first rode into his camp.

  Since Perley was not really familiar with the country he was riding through, he was dependent upon no more than a sketchy knowledge of the heavily forested mountains. For that reason, when he came upon a busy stream that appeared to head in the right direction, he followed its course down from the mountains. Luck seemed to be with him, for it eventually led him down through the hills and into the flatter prairie west of the Black Hills. He decided it best to camp beside the stream that had led him out of the mountains, and set out on a more southeasterly course the next morning. It would be an uneventful ride of a day and a half before he struck the Cheyenne stage road just north of Hat Creek Station.

  * * *

  “Well, if this isn’t a fine surprise,” Martha Bowman said when she saw him walk in the door of the hotel dining room at Hat Creek Station. “I thought you’d be back home on that Texas ranch by now.”

  “I’m on my way,” Perley responded. “Just thought I’d stop in for one of those good suppers you folks fix.”

  She followed him over to the end of the long table in the center of the room. “Are you staying in the hotel?”

  “Not this time,” Perley said. “I’m puttin’ my horses up at the stable for the night and I expect I’d best sleep with them.”

  She stepped back, pretending to be offended. “Was the hotel bed so bad last time you were here that you’d rather sleep in the stable?”

  He laughed and replied, “No, ma’am. It’s just that Buck, my horse, is feelin’ kinda puny, so I’d best keep an eye on him.” Martha was a friend, and he trusted her completely, but he didn’t think it a good idea to tell her he was more concerned about the four bags of seed corn in his packs.

  “There you go, ma’aming me again,” she scolded. “I thought we settled that last time you were here.”

  “Sorry, I forgot . . . Martha,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here. Thought maybe you’d be married and gone.”

  She chuckled at that. “I’ve been too busy to even think about that. Besides, I thought I told you I’m particular about the man I marry, and he hasn’t showed up yet.”

  He had never stopped to analyze his relationship with Martha Bowman or given thought to the fact that he was so free and easy around her. As a rule, he was shy around all women, especially one of Martha’s beauty and grace. But Martha was different. He was comfortable in her presence and free from getting tongue-tied, as he often did when talking to any woman outside a saloon.

  He was bro
ught back from his thoughts when she asked if he wanted coffee. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, then quickly corrected himself. “Yes, Martha.”

  She left to fetch the coffeepot, shaking her head in exasperation. “I’ll get a plate for you,” she called back over her shoulder.

  He was working on a slice of apple pie when Martha found the time to sit and visit with him for a while. “I’ll have a cup of coffee while I’ve got a chance,” she said. “Is that pie any good?”

  With a mouthful of it, he answered with a satisfied nod.

  “I haven’t tried any, myself,” she continued. “Gotta watch my figure.”

  “Me, too,” Perley said. “What’s goin’ on here at the ranch?” He was interested, since the ranch foreman, Willis Adams, had at one time tried to hire him.

  “Nothing new that I know of,” she answered. “There’s hardly anybody staying in the hotel. A man and his wife waiting to catch the stage to Deadwood, and some man on his way to Cheyenne.”

  That caught Perley’s interest. “Who’s the fellow goin’ to Cheyenne? Has he been here long?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Young fellow. Checked into the hotel this morning. He’s not waiting to ride the stage ’cause he’s got some horses with him.”

  That was not good news to Perley. It could be a coincidence, but there were better odds that it could be Billy. Martha said he’d checked in that morning.

  Why would he want to stay over another night here? Unless he just wants to enjoy some of that money he stole. Or maybe he’s got something else in mind. That’s a possibility. Billy already demonstrated a potential to bury himself in deep trouble. And since he stumbled into my camp, he seems to want to share it with me. Perley glanced up to find Martha staring at him.

  “Where did you drift off to? I think I lost you there for a minute,” she said.

  “I reckon my brain ain’t caught up with me since I left Deadwood,” he joked. “I have to stop and wait for it once in a while.” He couldn’t help thinking he’d stepped in another cow pie. He wasn’t even sure the man Martha was talking about was, in fact, Billy Tuttle. He didn’t ask her if she remembered the man’s name because he didn’t want to hear her say Billy Tuttle.