“I came back to talk to Mr. Chamberlain,” Frank said. He glanced toward the sitting room door, which was still open a crack. Nancy smiled gratefully at him through the gap.
“I’ll see if he’s willing to speak to you again, sir,” Dennis said. He knocked quietly on one of the library doors, then went in. A moment later, he reappeared. “Please come in, Mr. Morgan.”
Frank was glad that Chamberlain had agreed to see him again. They hadn’t left things on a very cordial basis.
Chamberlain was behind the big desk in the library. “What is it, Morgan?” he snapped.
Frank didn’t beat around the bush. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “I’ll take the job.”
Chamberlain’s rather bushy eyebrows lowered in a frown. “You’ll find the Terror and kill it?”
Frank didn’t like to lie, but he had made a promise to Nancy Chamberlain. He thought about the lines of worry he had seen etched on her pretty face, then said, “That’s right.”
Chamberlain leaned back in his chair. “May I ask what prompted this reversal?”
“I decided it was more important that you lift the bounty and get all those trigger-happy fools out of the woods.”
“And I suppose the ten thousand dollars had nothing to do with it?”
Frank shrugged. Let the old buzzard think whatever he wanted to.
Chamberlain stood up and came around the desk. “I’m surprised by this, Morgan, and I don’t mind admitting it. I thought you were too stiff-necked to admit that you were wrong. But I’m glad you changed your mind. I’ll put out the word about the bounty being lifted immediately, but it may take some time for it to reach everyone who’s looking for the Terror.”
“Make it as fast as you can,” Frank said.
“Of course.” Chamberlain stuck out his hand. “We have a deal.”
Frank shook with the timber baron and said, “We have a deal.”
He hoped it was one that would bring an end to the bloodshed in the redwoods.
Chapter 7
Chamberlain offered him a drink to seal the bargain, but Frank refused as politely as possible. He wasn’t much of a drinker to start with, preferring a good cup of coffee instead, and he wanted to get started on this job as soon as possible.
“Send a man into Eureka to spread the word about lifting the bounty,” Frank suggested. “If you’ve put up reward posters, have him take them down.”
Chamberlain frowned, clearly not liking it that Frank was giving him orders. But he said, “Very well. I’ll take care of it this afternoon.”
Frank nodded and turned toward the door.
Behind him, Chamberlain said, “Bring me his head, Morgan. Bring me the damn creature’s head.”
Frank didn’t say anything, didn’t turn. He just stood there for a second, jaw clenched, before he went out and closed the library door behind him.
Chamberlain didn’t know what he was asking for. All he knew was that something was killing his men and threatening his business. At least, that was all he would admit, even to himself. No wonder he felt the way he did.
Dennis was waiting in the corridor. He followed Frank all the way to the front door of the bizarre redwood mansion this time. The two horses and Dog were right where Frank had left them. Dog probably hadn’t moved since he sat down. His tail thumped against the ground, though, when Frank stepped out of the house and started down the steps from the porch.
The gunman called Rockwell lounged nearby on a wrought-iron bench that didn’t look the least bit comfortable. A quirly dangled from his lips. He took it out, stood up, and sauntered over while Frank was untying his horses’ reins.
“You were in there quite a while,” he commented. “Strike a deal with the old man?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. I’m going to hunt down the Terror, and Chamberlain’s going to call off the bounty.”
Rockwell’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You got him to back down? I didn’t think that was possible.”
“I offered him an arrangement he liked better, that’s all.”
Rockwell took another drag on the smoke. “I can tell you who’s not going to like it. All those hombres who’ve started wandering around in the woods looking for monsters. They all think they’re going to be the one to kill the Terror and collect that ten grand.”
“Chamberlain’s going to send someone to town to spread the word.” Frank swung up in the saddle. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d pass it along, too, Rockwell.”
The gunman shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Sure. Some of the boys have been going out into the woods to do some hunting during their spare time. I’ll tell them not to bother anymore.”
Frank rested his hands on the saddle horn and looked down at Rockwell. “Something else I’m wondering about…why does Chamberlain need to hire so many bodyguards?”
“He’s a rich man. Rich men have enemies. Chamberlain does especially. You ever hear of Emmett Bosworth?”
Frank pondered the question and then shook his head. “Can’t say as I have.”
“He’s the boss’s biggest competitor. He’s got the second biggest logging operation in northern California…and he’d like to have the biggest. Bosworth’s managed to get some leases that Chamberlain wanted to get his hands on. Those two gents don’t cotton to each other.”
Frank wasn’t surprised. No matter what a man’s business, he always had competitors. And if he was ruthless enough to be successful, which Rutherford Chamberlain obviously was, those competitors often became sworn enemies. Frank had seen it in mining, ranching, and every other business there was.
Including the business of being a fast gun.
“So Chamberlain’s worried that this fella Bosworth might try to move in on him?”
“Yeah. There have already been some squabbles between logging crews over lease boundaries. That’s when Chamberlain brought in me and Cobb and the other boys. All that’s sort of faded out over the past six months—”
“Since the Terror showed up,” Frank said.
“Yeah. The loggers are all more worried about the monster than they are about Bosworth. But Chamberlain kept us on anyway, since he figures he’ll have more trouble with Bosworth sooner or later.”
Frank nodded. Chamberlain was probably right about that. Greed, ambition, call it whatever you wanted to, it was a powerful force that was seldom denied for long.
But Frank had a more pressing problem, finding and capturing the Terror, and once that was done and he’d kept his promise to Nancy Chamberlain, The Drifter would be riding on. He wasn’t going to get involved in any timber war.
Frank turned Stormy’s head and lifted a hand in farewell to Rockwell as he rode away. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was going, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to catch the Terror here on Chamberlain’s estate. If Nancy was right and the creature really was her brother, Ben would probably avoid his father’s house. And if Nancy was wrong, if the Terror was some sort of mindless, animalistic monster, instinct would keep it from coming too close to the haunts of man. The trouble had started when the logging crews began to make their way deeper into the woods.
Frank knew where the Terror had been earlier in the day. He had seen the grisly evidence with his own eyes, heard the screams of the men being torn apart. He turned Stormy toward the south and rode slowly back the way he had come. Picking up the trail of the creature would be a long shot, but Frank was willing to give it a try.
Considering everything he had seen earlier in the day, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d found more mutilated bodies, but the forest seemed to be quiet and peaceful again. He heard an odd sound in the distance, but after a few minutes he figured out that it was the chunk! chunk! of ax blades biting deep into tree trunks. A logging crew was at work somewhere within hearing distance, but in this dense redwood jungle, it was impossible to tell how far away or even exactly which direction the sounds came from.