The Fire of Greed by Bill Yenne Read Free Book Online Page B

“Thought maybe I’d take a buck and smoke me some venison. Get a jump on winter. California’s a long ride.”
    â€œThey’ll be in the high country this time of year,” the man said, offering hunting advice.
    â€œYep,” Cole agreed. “It’ll be cooler up there.”
    â€œWhat takes you out to California?”
    â€œWoman.”
    â€œEither love or money,” the bartender proclaimed. “Anybody who tells you there’s a third thing that drives a man’s intentions, he’s either a fool or a liar.”
    â€œAin’t
that
for sure.” Cole nodded.
    â€œShe know you’re coming . . . ? Not that it’s any of my business.”
    â€œShe ran off with a gambler,” Cole explained, adding an element of fact to his fable. “I’ve come to figure that she’d be getting tired of him. I was just thinking . . .”
    â€œYou want to be there at the right time.”
    â€œYeah, I was just thinking that,” Cole said. It was true that he had been unable to push Sally Lovelace out of his mind completely, even though it had been the better part of four years since she had run off to San Francisco with J. R. Hubbard. It was
not
true that he had entertained any plans of going after her.
    â€œThe reason I asked . . . not wanting to pry into your business . . .” the bartender continued, “was that I had been wonderin’ if you were with those boys who were headed over to Luera.”
    â€œGuess not. What boys?”
    â€œTwo boys who was in here last night. They was all loaded up with a couple of mules like they were headed for somewhere.”
    â€œThey were headed for Luera?”
    â€œNot till they heard about the Dutchman.”
    â€œWho’s the Dutchman?”
    â€œHe’s a fellow over in Luera who knows a lot about the old Spanish gold strikes up in these hills round about.”
    â€œDo tell,” Cole said, nodding to an empty glass as if to say that hearing the fellow’s yarn about this Dutchman called for a refill.
    â€œThere’s stories,” the bartender said. “There’s stories that he’s found a lot of gold, and stories that he hasn’t. People see him around Luera, and then he disappears for weeks or a month or so. People have seen him with gold, but he doesn’t seem to live beyond his means. There’s stories that he takes it over to Socorro or some place and puts it in a bank.”
    â€œWhat made these boys take an interest in the Dutchman?” Cole asked. “Were they going over to Luera to rob the man?”
    â€œNo, they were drinking in here last night, and they got to talking with a couple of other fellows who
were
headed over to see him.”
    â€œWhat about?”
    â€œThey were gonna try’n get the Dutchman to tell ’em how to find the Lost Dearing Diggings.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œFellow name of Dearing came in through here back in the fifties, just before the war I guess it was,” the bartender began, relishing his role as storyteller. “He was a cowboy from over in West Texas who had some kind of scrape with the law. Came out here to get away. He rescued this half-breed Mexican kid from a bunch of Apaches. The kid was real thankful as you can picture, so he showed Dearing this place way up in yonder mountains where there was gold nuggets the size of wild turkey eggs just laying around.”
    â€œI’ve heard variations on that story before,” Cole said truthfully. The barrooms and backcountry of the Southwest abounded in such tales.
    â€œDearing showed up in Mesilla with a bandanna full of these nuggets,” the cantina owner insisted. “He said he’d go back in there and get more, but that he was scared off by the Apaches. He got some others to go with him.”
    â€œThey find the place?”
    â€œYup. They sure did. They caused quite a