“Us, help the Terror after it killed our friends?” Wilcox shook his head. “I’m not sure I believe you to start with about that thing bein’ the Chamberlain boy, but even if you’re right, Morgan, he’s still a murderer a dozen times over. Why should we help a thing like that?”
Peterson said, “Yeah, I say we leave him in the woods and let him die. He’s got it comin’ to him!”
Frank couldn’t argue with that. But he’d made a promise to Nancy Chamberlain, and his word still meant something to him.
“I told the boy’s sister I’d bring him home.” The Colt came out of Frank’s holster without him hurrying the draw. The move was so smooth, in fact, that his hand barely seemed to move. The revolver just appeared in it as if by magic. “Get in the wagon. You’re going to help me.”
Wilcox glared at him. “You’d take us right to that monster?”
“I told you, he’s in no shape to hurt you or anybody else. When I left him, he was out cold. He’s lost a lot of blood and he may not pull through, no matter what we do. But I said I’d bring him home, and by God, I’m going to do it.”
Neville said nervously, “I reckon that gunfighter means business, Karl.”
Wilcox sighed. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right.” To Frank, he said, “All right, Morgan, we’ll do what you say. But we don’t have to like it.”
“Didn’t ask you to like it,” Frank said. “Just asked you to give me a hand.”
The men gathered up the rifles and shotguns and placed them in the back of the wagon, then climbed onto the vehicle. Wilcox handled the reins of the mule team while Trotter sat beside him and Peterson and Neville climbed in the back. Following Frank’s orders, Wilcox turned the wagon around and started back along the road toward the spot where Frank had left Ben Chamberlain hidden in the brush.
“Just what do you plan on doin’ with the critter once you get it to Chamberlain’s house?” Wilcox asked as Frank rode alongside the wagon.
“Somebody will have to hightail it to Eureka and bring back a sawbones. Dr. Connelly, I think. He seems like a good man.”
“Then what? You gonna turn it over to the law?” Wilcox shook his head. “I’m not sure anybody could build a gallows big enough to hang that bastard.”
“I don’t know,” Frank said honestly. “Right now, I’m just trying to see to it that he pulls through.”
“Why?” asked Trotter. “If you ask me, if he’s really Ben Chamberlain, he’d be better off dead, the things he’s done.”
The others nodded in solemn agreement.
Frank had no answers for them, only his own stubborn determination to keep his promise to Nancy Chamberlain. A minute later, he recognized the spot where Goldy had dragged Ben off the road.
“Hold it right here,” he told Wilcox. “Ben’s hidden in the brush, just off the road.” Frank dismounted. “I’ll go check on him first. He’s sort of friends with me now, so maybe he won’t panic if he sees just me. I’ll have to get him used to the idea that you fellas are going to help us.”
“I’m still tryin’ to get used to that idea myself,” Wilcox said bitterly.
Frank ignored the comment and made his way into the undergrowth. He pushed the brush aside that he had used for camouflage, expecting to see Ben still lying there on the ground.
The problem was, Ben was nowhere to be seen. Frank stiffened in alarm as he realized that the young giant was gone. Ben must have come to, not known where he was, and wandered off. Given his mental condition, Ben might not even be aware that he’d been shot. That didn’t really matter, Frank realized.
What was important was that the Terror of the Redwoods was on the loose again.
Grimshaw wasn’t going to take the responsibility for killing Nancy Chamberlain. The hell with that. He worked for Bosworth, and it was Bosworth’s plans that were threatened by what Nancy had overheard.
“The rest of you men stay here,” he ordered. “I’m goin’ to Eureka.”
“What about Morgan?” Radburn asked. “We were supposed to be lookin’ for him.”
“The hell with Morgan. This is more important.” Grimshaw narrowed his eyes. “I’m makin’ you responsible for that girl’s safety, Radburn. Keep her here, but see to it that she’s not hurt.”
Radburn frowned. “I didn’t ask to be put in charge of anything, let alone some rich gal.”
“Well, I’m puttin’ you in charge anyway.” Grimshaw looked around at the other men. “You hear that? No harm comes to that girl while I’m gone, understand? If it does, I’ll kill the man who’s to blame for it. Got that, Hooley?”
“Why’re you singlin’ me out?” Hooley demanded resentfully. “What’d I do?”
“Just remember what I said,” Grimshaw snapped. “Now let go of her. I want to talk to her before I leave.”
With obvious reluctance, Hooley released his grip on Nancy Chamberlain. His hand had been straying dangerously close to her breasts as he held her, Grimshaw noted. Despite his orders, the girl might have to put up with a little pawing while he was gone, but really, that was the least of her worries. Grimshaw figured that Bosworth would order him to get rid of her.
He motioned Nancy over and asked her, “What are you doin’ out here, gal?”
Even though she was obviously terrified, she managed to jut her chin out in defiance as she answered, “That’s none of your business.”
Grimshaw lowered his voice so the others couldn’t hear. “Lookin’ for your brother maybe?”
Nancy gasped in surprise. “How did you know—”
“Never mind about that. Where’s your buggy?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t bring a buggy. I came out on horseback. My horse is hidden over there in the trees. I…I wanted to come up to the cabin on foot.”
“Didn’t want to spook him if he was here, eh?” Grimshaw nodded. “I understand.”
Nancy lifted a hand as if she wanted to reach out and touch his arm, but she drew it back in fear. “What do you know about what happened to him?”
“Like I told you, never mind about that. Anybody know you’re here?”
She hesitated, and he knew she was thinking about how she ought to answer that question. When she said, “I told the men who work for my father, Rockwell and Cobb and the others,” he knew she was lying. Nobody knew she was here.
“Well, we’ll see about that. Go over there and sit down on that log.” Grimshaw pointed. “Don’t budge until I get back, and then we’ll figure out what to do with you.”
By that time, he thought, he would have his orders concerning her—and he had a pretty good idea what they would be. She didn’t have to know that just yet, though.
Nancy sat down where he told her. Grimshaw said to the men, “Don’t forget what I told you,” and mounted up again. He rode off toward Eureka.
It took about an hour to reach the settlement, and Grimshaw didn’t feel a bit better when he got there than he had when he left the cabin. He went straight to the Eureka House and up the stairs to Bosworth’s suite. He pounded hard on the door of the sitting room. Bosworth jerked it open and demanded angrily, “What?” He looked surprised when he saw Grimshaw standing there in the corridor.
“We got to talk,” Grimshaw said. He didn’t wait for Bosworth to invite him in. He bulled into the room, forcing the timber baron to step back. Bosworth’s face flushed even darker.
Grimshaw smelled coffee and glanced around, spotting a breakfast tray sitting on one of the tables. Bosworth was still in his nightclothes. The bastard was just getting up, Grimshaw thought, when he and his men had been out on the trail for hours.
Bosworth closed the door and snapped, “What the hell is this? You’re supposed to be out looking for Morgan.”
“Forget about that,” Grimshaw said. “You’ve got more to worry about than Frank Morgan. While we were lookin’ for him this morning, we came across something else.”