The Copper City - Chris Scott Wilson [11]
“Get somebody else. I just quit.”
There was a mumble of complaint, and then the caller drifted away. Quantro jacked up an eyelid as Pete looked down at him. He tried to speak but only a whisper came from his throat before he sank back into unconsciousness.
Over by the mine company’s office there was a jangle of harness as a carriage pulled up. It carried two men, both wearing suits and smoking cigars. There were four outriders with the carriage, men with restless eyes who sat their horses easily with the patience of men used to being paid for waiting around. They were well armed and their holsters looked well used.
One of the gunmen, seeing Pete, heeled his horse away from the carriage. When the long shadow of the animal fell over the two men below him, the rider reined in, then rested his hands on the saddle horn. His eyes were hidden by the shade thrown from his hat brim.
“You work here?”
Pete shook his head. “I just quit.”
The rider’s hands moved a fraction. “Then get off the mine property. You ain’t needed here.”
“I’ll need a hand with my partner here…”
The rider touched his spurs to the horse until the big animal was crowding Pete. He couldn’t step back without treading on Quantro. The gunman urged on his horse again. Pete stood his ground until the flared nostrils of the animal were only inches from his face.
“Upton! Back off!”
Pete leaned around to peer past the horse’s shoulder. Harley, the man from the Copper Queen, was striding over. It was then Pete saw the carriage for the first time. He had been too occupied with Quantro. Now he saw its occupant was leaning back into the cushions, puffing at a fat cigar to match the one in Harley’s hand.
Harley came to a halt beside the rider. “Back off, Upton.”
The rider scowled, then touched a hand to the brim of his hat in the barest of salutes. He wheeled his horse and walked it back to his companions. Harley turned to Pete with a frown.
“I know you, don’t I?”
“You do. The Copper Queen, couple of weeks back. You offered to buy us a drink after my partner took care of a troublesome miner.”
Harley looked down at Quantro. “Jesus, what a mess. Who did it?” Then before Pete could answer, Harley answered himself. “Don’t tell me, the miner caught up, eh?”
“Right first time.”
The businessman examined Quantro’s slack face. “This happen down the mine?” When Pete nodded, he scowled. “Okay, where’re you both sleeping?”
“Gotta camp outside town.”
“Thought as much. Well, he’s in no state to turn down my offer this time. There’re some company houses across the railroad tracks, on Capote hill. There’s a couple empty. Get him there. I’ll get the foreman to see to it.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Pete said, scratching at his whiskers.
“What’s that?”
“Neither of us works for the company any longer. He just got fired, and I just quit.”
Harley’s frown eased into an expansive smile. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” He strode back to the carriage where he spoke to the passenger, then went over to the office.
Moments later the clerk emerged to fetch a team of horses that he hitched to a buckboard then led them over to Pete.
“Mr. Harley said I was to help.”
Pete grinned. Harley worked fast. “You sure can. He’s too heavy for my old bones.”
***
“He’ll be okay,” the doctor declared, stepping away from the cot. He rolled down his shirtsleeves after drying his hands on a strip of cloth that served as a towel. “Apart from his face there’s just some bad bruising. I don’t think the ribs are broken but I’ve strapped them up in case.” He smiled reassuringly at White-Wing, who was standing close by wearing her best worried frown. “He’ll be back on his feet in no time.”
“Right glad to hear it Doc,” Pete said, relieved that the damage was not as bad as it appeared. “You care for some coffee?”
The doctor pursed his lips, eyes wandering to the whiskey bottle he had used to sterilize Quantro’s cuts. “I’m partial to it real strong myself.”
Pete had followed his glance.