Free Slocum and the Grizzly Flats Killers (9781101619216) by Jake Logan Page A

have avoided gunning down Bertram by not pursuing him. Giving more details to justify the killing didn’t seem right.
    â€œNever had the sense God gave a goose. Where’d this happen?”
    â€œNot two hundred yards downslope,” Slocum said. “You didn’t hear the gunshots?”
    â€œWas in the mine. Had to come out to take a leak.” The pistol never left dead center of Slocum’s chest.
    He began estimating his chances of feinting in one direction, diving in the other, drawing and firing before a hunk of shot tore through his chest. It didn’t look good. The miner was like a statue, unwavering and not shaking even a fraction.
    â€œI didn’t mean to kill him, but—”
    â€œBut you didn’t have a choice. Bertram always was a hotheaded fool.”
    â€œGlad you understand.”
    â€œYou ain’t thinkin’ to jump the claim?”
    â€œIt’s yours by right,” Slocum said. “All of it, unless Bertram willed it to next of kin.”
    â€œKin? He don’t have no kin, leastways none that’d admit to it.”
    â€œYou mind pointing that gun somewhere else?”
    â€œThis old thing? Hell, it ain’t even loaded. I use it to drive spikes in the mine since my hammer broke.”
    Slocum reflected on how isolation had turned the miner crazy as a loon. That wasn’t the kind of admission to make to a man who had just killed your partner and might be interested in stealing whatever gold came from the mine.
    â€œYou hear any gunfire a few nights back?”
    â€œTwo nights back, yeah, might have. From way off, though. There’s folks always pokin’ about in these hills.”
    â€œProspectors?”
    â€œAin’t that honest. There’s a legend ’bout some damned fool bank robbers hidin’ their haul around here. Don’t mean nuthin’, just a tall tale. Or it might be. Cain’t seem to remember ’xactly.”
    Slocum touched the two coins in his vest pocket. There wasn’t anything to tell him Isaac Comstock had found the hidden gold. Others hunting for the robbers’ booty might have dropped them. Or some swindler might have salted the area to sell treasure maps or lead a party into the hills to kill them.
    The gold coins could have ended up in Comstock’s possession in all manner of ways, and with him dead, there was no way to know the truth. All Slocum had to go on was what a grieving widow claimed.
    â€œYou see four or five men riding around in the last day or two?”
    â€œAin’t budged from the mine. Found a new vein.” The man chuckled. “Might call it a cap-you-lary.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThem’s itty-bitty veins. Read it in a book once while I was laid up at a doctor’s office. Ain’t big enough to call it a vein. Hardly wider than a knife’s blade, but it’s gold.”
    Slocum saw the change in the miner’s demeanor. He lifted the Remington again, making Slocum wonder if it was unloaded as the man had said before.
    â€œYou want me to help bury your partner?” Returning to the other miner’s death wasn’t too smart, but Slocum wanted to distract the man.
    â€œHell, let him lay wherever you gunned him down. That’s Bertram’s rifle. I recognize it. Shoulda blowed up in his face, the way he kept it. I told him to oil his rifle, but he never did. I oil all the movin’ parts.”
    â€œThe hinges on your cabin door.”
    â€œYou been pokin’ in there?”
    â€œWanted to get my hands warm,” Slocum lied.
    â€œYou don’t want my gold?”
    Slocum shook his head.
    â€œWhy don’t you hightail it outta here? I got work to do. I take the night shift and Bertram does the day work.”
    Slocum saw that there wasn’t much more than single-minded determination to mine gold left in the man. Even acknowledging his partner’s death didn’t deter him. The isolation had