Free HisBootsUnderHerBed by Unknown Page B

had ventured onto that mysterious mountain, and he had a score to settle with them—especially Miss Rory O’Grady. She was the only one he had told about the map. What had driven her to steal it? Hadn’t he told her that he’d give her half of everything, in gratitude for helping keep him from being shanghaied? Greed was so ugly.
    He turned over on his side. He was so disappointed in her. Experienced in the ways of women, he had believed her to be a naïve, even innocent young woman, despite the tough façade she tried to present. He’d thought her the vulnerable victim of a conniving father and the cruel hand that fate had dealt her.
    Was he ever mistaken! She was as much of a schemer as her father. Deep in his heart, he had hoped she would have resisted such temptation.
    Garth yawned and closed his eyes. When he caught up with her and Paddy, come hell or high water, he would get Uncle Henry’s mine back.
    After another half hour of restless tossing, Garth got up, pulled on his trousers, and went outside to catch a breath of fresh air. The dog trotted over to him, and Garth patted his head.
    “Guess we’ll be parting company in the morning, pal,” he said.
    The night was quiet, and his gaze was drawn to the nearby mountain. Moonlight cast its eerie outline into a shimmering specter, its snow capped peak disappearing into the darkened sky above.
    “Looks to me like the mountain is reaching to Heaven, not down to Hell, pal,” he said.
    How could an educated and holy man believe that an evil force inhabited the mountain? If you believed that, you could say the same about any mountain.
    He thought of how many poor souls perished crossing the Rockies when they came west. Or what about the Matterhorn in Europe, or the Himalayas in Asia? The plain truth was, the hazards of scaling a mountain had always been a challenge to man. And when one perished in the attempt, a myth or mystical speculation was often attached to the misadventure.
    “Death is as common as birth, pal. People die daily from accidents and illnesses. When one drowns, no one blames the river. If one perishes in a fire, no one puts the forest to blame. But let someone die climbing a mountain, and another myth is born.
    “Mountain of the Devil, my ass! A mountain is just an obstacle in one’s path—not a breeding ground for evil spirits.”
    As for the danger of bandits, well, cities were rife with murderers, thieves, rapists, and other two-legged vermin like the two sons of bitches who’d tried to shanghai him.
    “Pal, I’d be sitting on some damn ship in the middle of the ocean right now if it hadn’t been for…”
    Damn it. Why did she have to turn out to be no better than them?
     
    Despite the restless night, Garth had awakened early and was saddling Boots when Father Chavez approached leading a burro.
    “Since I cannot convince you to forsake this foolish venture, my friend, you will have need of a burro.”
    Garth chuckled. “No doubt to carry back all of the gold I will find.”
    “You would probably profit more by selling the burro.”
    “Oh, ye of little faith, Father. Thanks very much for the offer, but I prefer traveling light.”
    “You joke, but it is good to hear you are a man of faith, Garth. Even if it isn’t Catholic,” he added with a merry twinkle in his eyes. “But I think you would find Samuel here to be more surefooted than your horse.”
    “Don’t listen to him, Boots. We know better, don’t we?” Garth said, giving a final tug to the cinch.
    “Well, I guess I’m all set.” The two men shook hands. “I can’t thank you enough, Father Chavez. I hope one day I can repay you for all the help you’ve been.”
    “You can do so by returning safely, my friend.”
    Garth mounted. “One more thing, Father. I hate to take advantage of your generosity, but would you find a home for the dog? I feel kind of responsible for him.”
    Father Chavez glanced at the dog who had now risen, and he grinned. “It would appear