is she always like that?”
“She has been ever since I’ve known her, and I’ve known her since the day she was born. She’s a stubborn young woman, and I might warn you of this: If you have any idea of getting out and abandoning them, forget it. I’ll put your name and the names of any who abandon the trip in every town in the West. You’ll be brought back here and given a life sentence for escaping.”
Tremayne seemed unimpressed. “It won’t be any trouble for me. I may have to knock a few heads to enlighten some of the men I’ll be taking. The only thing most of them understand is a bullet or a whipping.”
“I want to tell you this, Tremayne. This girl is very dear to me. My sister and I were very close. I loved her dearly, and I still do though she’s gone to be with the Lord. But my heart is with these people. They’re going to be hard for you to get along with. I couldn’t get along with them.”
“You couldn’t get along with them?” Tremayne was surprised for the first time. “I don’t understand that.”
“They’re very . . . straight laced. There’s even sort of a pride in their humility. They think that society is far too worldly, even religious groups. So they can grate on your nerves. You’lljudge them to be self-righteous, and I guess there’s some truth to that in some cases. But my brother-in-law, Gwilym Morgan—there’s not a finer man on the earth. You’ll see that in him, I’m sure. He may not be much of a fighting man, but he’s a good man, and his children are fine too. I’ll take this as a personal favor if you can help us.”
The appeal seemed to touch Tremayne. He ducked his head for a moment and was silent. Then he said, “I’ll get the train through, Warden, or die trying.”
“Good man. Now, would you like to meet your new employees?” He smiled as he held the list and said, “I can send for them, and you can meet them in a room here.”
“Trot ’em out, Warden. They need to understand a few things.”
* * *
TREMAYNE STUDIED THE SIX men who stood before him, and a sense of despair brushed against his mind. These are the men I’m supposed to use? Well, it may work. Maybe the girl is right, and God is in all this.
The room was stark with no furniture except one table and two chairs. The five men Warden Bryce had summoned looked uncomfortable and somewhat apprehensive. They had entered the room to find Casey Tremayne standing there, and he had ignored all their questions. Finally, the door closed, and Jack Canreen said, “What’s this all about, Tremayne?” He was a huge man, six feet two, and weighed two hundred twenty-two pounds. The huge biceps strained the fabric of his prison uniform, and his strength was bull-like. His face was scarred with marks of battles past, and he looked dangerous.
Tremayne studied Canreen, who had only lost one fight, and that had been to Tremayne himself.
“I’ve got a proposition. The warden has made an offer to me, and I wanted to let you men in on it because you may be concerned.”
“What kind of offer would he make to us?” Canreen sneered, doubt and anger in his voice. “What does he want? He ain’t giving something for nothing.”
“I think maybe he is this time, Jack. Let me tell you what’s happened.”
Quickly he outlined the details of his visit with the warden and Charity Morgan. He scrutinized the faces of the men. The three men who stood closest to Canreen were all known for their viciousness. Frenchy Doucett was a small man no more than five feet ten and weighed less than a hundred forty pounds. He was lightning quick with a knife. He wore scars on his neck as the remnant of an old knife fight, and his black hair and brown eyes gave evidence of his Cajun blood. He’s knifed two men in prison, and he claims to be a good shot , Tremayne thought.
His eyes moved to Ringo Jukes. Jukes was an unusual-looking prisoner. He was six feet tall, well proportioned with a head of auburn hair. He had dark