“Not if we don’t ever do it no more,” Eddie insisted.
“Chad, it’s a little late to be bringin’ that up now, don’t you think?” Hank asked. “You should’ve told us before if you weren’t in favor of doing this.”
“Come on, Hank. What the hell do you think I’ve been telling you from the moment Eddie came up with this crazy scheme?”
“And we told you that you don’t have to go through with it,” Eddie said. “Now if you’re all that squeamish, why don’t you just ride over there in the dark and see if you can’t find yourself a sugar tit or something to suck on while the rest of us men pull the job?”
“Take it easy on him, Eddie,” Hank said. “He’s got a right to feel the way he does.” Hank looked at his brother. “But he’s right, Chad. You don’t have to go through with this.”
Chad sighed. “I reckon I’ll do it,” he said, resolutely.
“You sure?” Ken asked. “ ’Cause we can’t have no more doubts now. It’s too late for that. We’re down to the nut cuttin’.”
“I’m sure.”
“Good man,” Gene said, and he reached over to squeeze Chad on the shoulder. “Listen, I knew all along that he was going to go with us. He’s never let us down before.”
The loud shrill of a whistle indicated that the train was much closer now, and the steadily increasing noise made Chad’s horse stamp its foot restlessly. Chad reached down to quiet his animal.
“Okay, boys, here she comes,” Eddie said, the excitement of the moment creeping into his voice. He laughed. “Ain’t we somethin’? Bet them James boys never pulled off a slicker holdup.”
“We ain’t pulled it off yet,” Hank reminded him.
“We’re about to. Pull your kerchiefs up over your nose, boys,” Eddie said as he followed his own advice. “That way, nobody will be able to describe what you look like.”
Chad stood up in the stirrups of his saddle and looked toward the approaching train. The headlamp was in view, its beam looking like a long yellow finger stabbing through the steadily falling rain. The puffing steam sounded like the gasps of some fire-breathing monster. And as if to add to the illusion, glowing sparks were being whipped away by the black smoke cloud that billowed up into the wet night sky.
“Get your guns out,” Eddie ordered. “Soon as it stops for water, we’ll go up and rap on the door of the express car. In five minutes we’ll be ridin’ away from here with three, maybe four hundred dollars in our poke.”
Vented steam and squeaking metal sounded as the engineer began braking the train. Finally it rumbled and settled to a halt, with the tender poised just below the water tank. All the coach cars were dark, the passengers undoubtedly asleep just as Eddie had said they would be. That was good. Even though Chad had no experience in robbing a train, he was intuitive enough to realize that the greatest danger would come from the unexpected. And if the passengers were awake, the unexpected could happen.
“We made it here none too soon,” Chad heard the fireman say as he crawled out onto the tender. “I’ll bet you there ain’t enough water left in this tank to work up a good spit.” The tank’s lid banged hollowly as the fireman dropped it open, then swung the spout over.
Chad shivered, but not from the cold.
“Here we go, boys,” Eddie whispered. “Hank, you come with me. Rest of you fellas, stay down here in the ditch till they open the door. Soon as they open it, all of you fire a shot off in the air. That’ll let ’em know there’s too many of us for them to fight. They’ll probably pee their pants, but you can bet they’ll give up the money bag. I’ll toss it down here: you fellas throw a few more shots in the air to keep them scared. Then we’ll get the hell out of here.” He grinned. “Simple.”
Chad and the others drew their pistols as Eddie and Hank rode their mounts up to the top of the berm, making as little noise as possible. Down at the bottom of the gravel-covered embankment, Chad pointed his pistol straight up in the air and waited. His hands were sweating, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
Suddenly he heard Eddie rap sharply on the door of the express car and call, “Hey! Hey, open up in there.”
Chad glanced quickly toward the tender, but it was obvious that the fireman had heard nothing. The man’s attention was on the water pouring into the tank, and the water was making such a roar that it covered all the other sounds. The engineer stayed in his cab, surrounded by escaping steam and popping safety valves. Both fireman and engineer were oblivious to the drama being played out below them.
Chad watched as the express car door slid open, a narrow wedge of light growing to a large gap. A man appeared in the gap and looked outside. “What is it? What do you want?” he called into the darkness.
“Okay, let her go!” Eddie shouted, and Chad and the others fired into the air. The flashes of light from the gunshots painted the side of the express car orange, and the vivid scene seemed to freeze in Chad’s brain for his most minute inspection.
“Throw down your money!” Eddie called.
“My God! It’s a holdup! How did they know about the bank shipment?”
“Drop!” a loud voice called from farther back inside the car. The man in the doorway belly-flopped to the floor.
“What the hell is—” Eddie started to yell, but the loud roar and bright flash of a shotgun interrupted him. Chad saw Eddie tumble backward out of his saddle. His face was shot away.
“Oh, my God!” Chad screamed.
“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Hank yelled. He managed to get his horse turned just before the second shotgun discharge. With that blast, a spray of blood, bone chips, and brain matter exploded from Hank’s head as he went down.
“Hank!” Chad shouted. He started to dismount, but Gene reached over and grabbed him by the arm, physically keeping him in his saddle.
“You want to get killed, kid?” Gene shouted. “There’s nothing you can do for your brother now!”
“Let’s go!” Ken shouted, and he slapped Chad’s horse on the rump.
The horse, already frightened by the shots, needed no further encouragement to bolt toward the rear of the train. Bending low over their horses’ necks, the three men galloped away. Chad was the lightest and the best rider on the fastest horse. Not wanting to abandon them, he actually held his horse in check to keep from pulling away from them.
“There’s three more and they’re gettin’ away!” someone shouted. “Shoot ’em! Shoot the sons of bitches!”
“I used up both barrels! I gotta reload!”
“Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” Chad heard himself crying out. He heard a couple of windows sliding open on the train, then a shot, not from a shotgun, but from a pistol. He didn’t know if it was one of the guards in the express car or a passenger who happened to be armed and wanted in on the action.
When the three riders reached the end of the train, they kept going, following the track bed. The train was eastbound, and Chad, Ken, and Gene were heading west. Chad was reasonably sure that the guards wouldn’t have horses aboard the train, but they couldn’t take the chance. They kept pressing on for a long time to make certain that, if the trainmen did have horses, they wouldn’t be able to catch them.
Finally, after they had ridden at least five miles with no sign of anyone following them, they stopped.
“If we don’t want to kill these horses, we’d better walk them for a bit,” Chad suggested, swinging down from the saddle.
“Yeah, good idea,” Ken said. He looked behind them. “Doesn’t look like anyone is following us.”
Chad felt numb. He began leading Thunderbolt, talking soothingly to his horse but saying nothing to the others. He couldn’t get rid of the picture of the gore spraying from the side of his brother’s head.