Frank didn’t think that Bosworth would order a direct attack, though, at least not at first. The man was too devious for that. He would probably offer to trade Nancy’s safety for Chamberlain signing over that timber lease to him. Once that happened, then Bosworth would pull his double cross. With a signed lease in his pocket, no one was safe from Bosworth.
Stormy and Goldy started to shy away from Ben, but Frank stopped them with a word. He hated to ask Ben to run all the way to the mansion, but he didn’t have much choice.
As he was swinging up into the saddle, though, he heard a crashing in the brush, and then Wilcox, Peterson, Trotter, and Neville burst out into the open, brandishing guns. They jerked the weapons up when they saw Ben, who let out a furious roar and spread his arms as if he were about to charge them.
“Hold it!” Frank bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Put those guns down! Ben, stop! They won’t hurt you!”
For a tense second, the loggers didn’t lower their weapons. Then Wilcox motioned for the others to do as Frank said. “My God,” he said in a hollow voice. “I remember Old Man Chamberlain’s kid. That really is him, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Frank said. “Do you have that wagon with you?”
Wilcox jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Back there about a hundred yards. We heard the shootin’ and came to see what it was about.”
“Lead the way,” Frank ordered as he lifted the reins. “We have to get to the Chamberlain mansion as fast as we can, because there’s about to be a showdown there between him and Emmett Bosworth. And I reckon Bosworth has a trick or two up his sleeve.”
“If we help you with this…critter…we get to fight Bosworth and his bunch?”
“I’d say there’s a good chance of it.”
Wilcox nodded. “Come on, boys, let’s get that wagon. It’s about time Bosworth got what’s comin’ to him.”
“What about the Terror?” Neville asked.
Frank said, “Leave him to me.” He turned to the huge, foul-smelling giant. “Ben, listen to me. These men are our friends. They won’t hurt you, and you don’t need to hurt them.”
Ben didn’t look convinced. He waved a massive paw at the loggers and rumbled, “Cut down…treeees.”
“I know, and you don’t like that.” Frank was starting to understand why Ben had attacked the loggers. To Ben’s twisted way of thinking, he was just trying to protect the trees from them. All the other men Ben had gone after had attacked him first. “Right now it can’t be helped. We have to save Nancy. She’s in danger.”
“Nan…cy? Daaaanger?”
Frank nodded. “That’s right. Are you with me, Ben?”
Ben lifted both hands and curled them into fists the size of nail kegs. “Wiiiith…you,” he said. “Help…Nan…cy.”
“That’s right,” Frank said.
He just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.
Grimshaw had seen the Chamberlain mansion from a distance before, but it was even more impressive up close. Impressive—or downright bizarre, take your pick, he thought. He couldn’t imagine living in such a crazy place.
Chamberlain’s men must have seen them coming, because half a dozen of them rode out quickly to intercept the riders approaching the mansion. They were tough, hard-looking men, but they wouldn’t be any match for his bunch, Grimshaw told himself. For one thing, his men outnumbered Chamberlain’s men almost two to one.
Bosworth was already here. Grimshaw recognized the fancy carriage parked in front of the mansion. That meant Chamberlain probably knew already that they had the girl. From the angry looks on the faces of Chamberlain’s men as they approached, Grimshaw knew that was true.
He turned in the saddle and motioned for Radburn to bring Nancy up alongside him. Chamberlain’s men would be a lot less likely to start throwing lead around if Nancy was front and center where she’d be liable to get in the way of some of it.
As the two groups of gunmen came to a halt facing each other, Grimshaw said, “We’re here to see your boss. But I reckon you already know that.”
“Let Miss Chamberlain go,” one of the men said. “Then we’ll talk about what you want.”
Grimshaw smiled thinly and shook his head. “It don’t work that way, and you know it. We got our orders, the same as you boys do. Move aside now, and let us ride on to the house.”
“And if we don’t?” the leader of Chamberlain’s men challenged.
“Then I’ll have to shoot you, Cobb,” one of the others said, and Grimshaw felt a surge of surprise when he saw that the man had slipped out his gun and fallen back a little, so that he could cover his companions from behind.
“What the hell!” the man called Cobb exclaimed as he twisted around in his saddle. “Rockwell, you double-crosser! You’re workin’ for Bosworth?”
Cobb didn’t wait for an answer. He clawed at the revolver on his hip. Rockwell fired, his gun spouting smoke and flame, and Cobb rocked to the side in his saddle as the bullet thudded into his barrel chest. Cursing, he pawed at his chest for a second before he toppled off the horse and crashed to the ground to lie motionless.
The rest of Chamberlain’s men hadn’t moved except to stare in surprise at the one called Rockwell. Grimshaw drew his gun, and so did the rest of his men. “Drop ’em, boys,” Grimshaw ordered. “It’s over.”
Chamberlain’s men knew they were in a bind. Carefully, they took their guns out and tossed them on the ground.
“Now, we’re goin’ in,” Grimshaw said.
With half a dozen prisoners now instead of just one, the hired killers moved on toward the mansion, reining in when they reached it. Grimshaw dismounted and said, “The rest of you boys stay out here and keep an eye on Chamberlain’s men. Miss Chamberlain, you come with me. You’re about to see your father again, I reckon.”
Grimshaw wrapped his left hand around Nancy’s right arm and led her up the steps to the porch. A pale-faced butler must have been watching from inside. He opened the door before they reached it and said in a shaky voice, “Miss Nancy, are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Dennis,” she said, although she didn’t sound fine. She sounded scared to death, and with good reason, although she couldn’t know that yet.
“Your father and…and Mr. Bosworth are waiting in the library,” said the butler.
“Take us there,” Grimshaw snapped.
The butler escorted them along the hall to the double doors that opened into the library. When they went inside, they stepped into an atmosphere of tension and hatred. Rutherford Chamberlain and Emmett Bosworth stood there, staring at each other, evidently at a standoff.
Chamberlain turned sharply toward the newcomers. “Nancy!” he exclaimed. He started to rush toward her, but Bosworth stepped over so that he blocked the older man’s path.
“Not yet, Chamberlain,” Bosworth said. “You can see for yourself that your daughter’s all right, but you know the deal. You don’t get her back until you sign that timber lease over to me.”
Chamberlain glared at his rival. “You really think such a document will stand up in court, with a signature coerced on it that way?”
“You let me worry about that.” Bosworth pointed to the desk, where a document was laid out. “You just sign that contract I brought with me.”
“You’ll never get away with this!” Chamberlain looked at Nancy. “What were you doing out there wandering around alone in the woods anyway?”
“I was looking for Ben,” she shot back with a flare of anger of her own. “You never would believe me, and I didn’t know if Mr. Morgan would ever find him, so I…I thought I’d take another look around, before you put out another of those damned bounties.”
Chamberlain stared at her in disbelief. “Are you still clinging to that insane notion about the Terror being your brother—”
“Actually, he is,” Grimshaw said. He wasn’t quite sure what prompted him to speak up, unless he was just too damned sick and tired of carrying around what he knew. “The Terror is your son, Chamberlain.”