Free The First Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone Page A

Unless he was stopped, Bum and his boys would be the laughing stock of the territories. He knew the others had the same thought.
    They couldn’t none of them allow that to happen. They had to close Preacher’s mouth. Forever.
    * * *
    Preacher would chuckle occasionally as he built a fire to cook their supper.
    â€œI fail to see what is so amusing about inflicting pain and suffering upon your fellow man,” Edmond said.
    Preacher looked at the missionary. “Do you have any idea what them ol’ boys back yonder will do to you if they catch you?”
    â€œRob us.”
    Preacher chucked. “You really are a babe in the woods, ain’t you? Well, let me tell you something. If they catch you people, after they get tired of usin’ the women, then they’ll use you men. You get my drift?”
    â€œI don’t believe that!” Edmond said. “That would be—well, barbaric!”
    â€œIt sure would. But they’d still do it. Then they’d torture you just to listen to you scream. They’ve done it all before. Ain’t nothin’ new to none of them. They been doin’ it for years and years.”
    â€œWhy don’t the authorities stop them?” Richard asked.
    â€œGood God, people!” Preacher blurted in exasperation. “Look around you. What authorities? There ain’t no law out here. This is wilderness. Can’t you people understand that?”
    â€œThe Army is the authority in wilderness areas, I believe,” Edmond said. “When we reach this fort you spoke of, we shall certainly report the reprehensible behavior of those ruffians who attacked the cave.”
    â€œSure,” Preacher replied. “People, this land is in dispute ’tween England and the U-nited States. There might not be soldiers their. ’Sides, ain’t but about five hundred million billion acres out there. Hell, they oughtta be able to search that in no time a-tall.” He shook his head, “Foolish, foolish people.”
    Preacher fell silent as the little something that had been nagging at him all day finally settled down in the light of his mind. He had known about half of the men behind the voices back yonder in the cave. But yet another voice had been awful familiar to him.
    â€œJack Harris!” he blurted.
    â€œWhat?” Richard said, looking at the mountain man. “What about our guide?”
    â€œI knowed that voice was familiar. He was one of them back at the cave. I’m sure of it!”
    Melody scooted closer to him. “If that’s correct, Preacher, then that means that ...” Her voice trailed off, her face frozen in shock.
    â€œYeah,” Preacher spoke the word softly. “The whole thing wasn’t nothin’ but a set up from the git-go.”
    â€œWhatever in the world do you mean?” Penelope asked.
    â€œThem Injuns spoiled Bum and Jack’s plans. They wasn’t figurin’ on them Injuns attackin’. They was gonna ambush the wagon train. That’s why Jack took y’all so far north of the Oregon Trail.”
    Edmond was speechless—which, to Preacher’s ears, was a great relief.
    Penelope sat on the ground, her mouth open.
    â€œYes,” Richard finally said. “Yes. It has to be. What a thoroughly untrustworthy, black-hearted, and totally reprehensible individual.”
    â€œDoes that mean he’s a dirty, low-down, sorry skunk?” Preacher asked.
    â€œYes. That sums it up quite well.”
    â€œThought so. Well, it means something else, too: it means they got to kill us all. You see, no tellin’ how long Jack’s been doin’ this. You say Jack hooked up with y’all in Missouri?”
    â€œWell ... not exactly,” Richard said. “Ten days out of Missouri, our guide suddenly disappeared. He’d been out scouting. I think. Well, you can imagine our predicament. We were beside ourselves with worry. We were lost. The next