Boldly Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Let Him Go

"Well, I'll be hog-wallered!" Bill let out a low whistle as he bent over Slade's shoulder. His eyes were as large as the gold and silver dollars Slade was counting. A substantial pile of jewelry was piled off to one side, and on the other side, a stack of paper bills.

"Sure was more profitable than I ever thought 'twould be," Sam nodded in astonishment.

"Jes' look at thet beauty there," Charlie reached out to pick up a glittering necklace of diamonds but jerked his hand back at Slade's sharp admonishment.

"Don't ya dare touch anythin'... any of ya! I'm still th' boss o' this outfit and what I say goes. That includes who takes what. Understand?"

No argument was offered and the men backed away silently. When Slade got money into his hands, there was no telling what he would do. This last train had been the third they had taken down in three days... and it had yielded the highest bounty. Slade was at his pinnacle of glory and was already forming greater, grander plans for this job.

"That was swell ridin' out there, McCulloch," he said, suddenly and unexpectedly, glancing in the direction of the silent figure who sat opposite, idly staring at the lariat in his hands. "Couldn't a' done it without ya. Ain't never yet met no one else who could jump from the back of a horse onto a movin' train."

Jason didn't answer. He was seething with anger and shame. He had tried over and over to convince himself that rejoining Slade was a necessary action... but to no avail. It was a low-down, rotten, cowardly thing to do. And he called himself a man! Wouldn't it be better to rot in jail than to continue in this lifestyle? Yet, he had told Slade "Just this once", and Slade had agreed. But Jason was haunted. Haunted by the pleas of the old man, by the tears in the eyes of the woman who had handed over her last few dollars. So many faces, pleading, angry, accusing, hateful, sorrowful... And they wouldn't let him rest. But one face seemed to stand out in his mind over the others. That of a young girl. Looking up at him, unafraid, with those big green eyes... Such a look in those green eyes as he had never seen before. They had stricken him to the core of his being. He was glad... glad that he had managed to give her some money back. She was so young... so small... she had needed it. He had wanted to give her locket back but... Slade would have noticed its absence. It would have been too risky.

Slade finished counting the money and carefully divided it into four equal piles, and then another much larger. This done, he scooped the individual shares into leather bags and tossed them to each of the boys in turn. Sam merely looked at his mournfully and tucked it into his pocket but Charlie and Bill were pouring coins into their hands and staring at it with eyes gleaming greedily. Jason didn't even touch his share... at first. But lifting his head and glancing around the circle, he finally took it. Turning to his horse, he slipped it into his saddlebags and set about tightening the girth of his saddle.

"Goin' somewhere, McCulloch?" Slade's voice seemed suddenly full of a threatening tension.

"Goin' home." Jason answered, not even turning around.

"Why?" Slade sat forward, uncrossing his arms, and pushed his hat back.

"My hired help'll be worried," Jason spoke casually. "I said I'd be gone for just four days."

"You'll have t' send them word that it'll be longer."

"Nope. I've stayed long enough. I said "Just this once", Slade, and I meant it. No more. Find someone else t' jump trains fer ya."

Slade stood slowly, hand moving toward the six-shooter in his right holster. Jason was still facing away from him, bending down to lift up each of his horse's hooves in turn to inspect them before his thirty-mile ride back to his ranch.

"Ye're stayin', McCulloch." The tone of Slade's voice was one that all who knew him knew should never be defied. Slade was in a dangerous mood. Possessing of a new fortune, with an even greater one looming in the foreground, not to mention tipsy from the whiskey he had brought along to celebrate yet another great success. He wasn't thinking rationally. Slowly, stealthily, he drew the six-shooter from its holster. The other three men remained silent. It wasn't their quarrel. If Jason was going to be a hare-brained fool, so much the worse for him.

"I'm going home," Jason repeated, firmly. Slade aimed the pistol, finger on the trigger, and drew the hammer back with a sharp click. In a flash, before the others could even comprehend what had happened, Jason whirled around, drawing his own six-shooter, and shot the pistol from Slade's hand.

A moment of silence followed, then Bill and Charlie suddenly flew into action. That certainly hadn't been what they expected to happen... they had thought to see Jason fall dead. But he had threatened Slade. Practically defeated him. Slade stood watching, one eyebrow raised, holding his right wrist as the other men grabbed Jason, wrenching the gun from his hand, twisting his arms behind his back.

"You loco?" Bill swore angrily. "Ya can't do that!"

Slade bent down, picked his gun up, and inspected it calmly. Sauntering over to where the others held Jason, he drew the boy's other gun from his holster, turning it over in his hand.

"Ya ruined my gun, McCulloch. Thought you were smarter than that." He slipped Jason's gun into his empty holster. "This one'll do jest fine, though. An' ye're lucky." Pulling the flask of whiskey from his tattered shirt pocket, he threw his head back and drained it in a few gulps.

"Let him go," he said finally, glaring at the others. "Fer now." Jason wrenched himself away and snatched his remaining pistol from Bill's hand. Without a word, he mounted his horse and turned westward. Once he glanced back over his shoulder and once again, Slade inwardly quaked under the steady gaze of those blue eyes. Then Jason spurred his mount into a swift gallop and vanished into the distance.

Slade swore as he watched him go. It was more than just needing another man for the job. Jason knew a lot... more than was safe for him to know... and it was risky letting him go a second time. Slade knew well that if he didn't play his cards just right, it would not go well for him.