Storyteller / Shared NPC
Case and the gang sat, or stood, wondering what the hell had just happened. They had them, out numbered out gunned, yet three men had them flat footed. They had taken the list of banks and fled, while the Steelgrave gang did nothing. None of them had ever seen the like and certainly were not about to discuss their seeming ineptitude in the situation. It was embarrassing.
So, they drank and ate before the mounted up, each with his own thoughts, mostly about what would happen when next they crossed paths, each promising it would not be pleasant for the three bank robbers.
The ride to Proctor Montana was slow and easy, little conversation even in camp. But they stayed together, no one left the gang as there were other plans, banks had just been one part of the things they were going to be involved with, meaning they would be robbing them themselves. Far riskier, but necessary. Men didn't work for free.
Case sent Toole and Guthrie in to town to see what was up in Proctor, always the safe way to do things, in the event any of them turned up wanted in connection with Big Flat. A stop in the saloon provided all the information that they needed, with the right questions asked about mining, range condition, were any outfits hiring, the coast was clear. But one thing happened they were not prepared for, the bar keep asked if they "knew" a Case Steelgrave, as there was a package for him at the express office.
Two things were possible, it was a set up, or it was on the level. There was just one way for them to find out.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Ralston Pettigrew stood looking across the counter at the two men who said they had been advised by the bar keep that their boss, Case Steelgrave, had a parcel waiting, but that he was pushing the herd north. They wanted to pick it up.
Well, the name was well known throughout Montana, both the father and the son, as well as the brothers and one sister so it was without caution that he placed a crate of some sort, wrapped in butcher paper with Cases name scrawled on the front. with it an envelope.
Toole took up the weighty package, obviously a box, carefully wrapped, tied with a cord, the envelope tucked under the cord. They thanked the man, who was equally as glad to have anything Steelgrave off of his hands. Toole and Guthrie mounted up and headed back out of town, have enjoyed a couple of drinks, picking up the package for Case, and finding out none were wanted in connection with Big Flat.
They rode for the camp without delay.
----------------------------
'Case, in the box is your share of the first proceeds. Seventy percent. I took five percent to re-supply.
Total haul from Garnet $1978.00, less thirty percent, $1684.00. We'll be in contact before Trout Creek.'
"I'll be damned!" Case said as he broke in the top of the crate. "Look it that!" A mixture of gold coin and paper money which was quickly counted and totaled as promised. The packaging had been meticulous, the coin wrapped tight so as not to make any noise. Most of the paper was of low denomination, but it would spend just the same, and they had done no work for these proceeds. "So lemme see, reckon we each get one hundred forty dollars, for doin' nothin'!"
That made everybody happy!
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Proctor Montana was fast asleep, a slight breeze stirring the dusty streets. There was a light in the Sheriff's office, the night deputy would likely be sound asleep at his desk, a good place for him. It hardly ever failed that the night man, deputy or not, ever made rounds much after ten o'clock, there was hardly ever anyone up past that hour on a week night. The saloon was dark, as expected.
While Case Steelgrave and any number of his men were a bit deranged, evil and sadistic, Walt Shannon, Injun Charlie and Wally Oldham were all about the challenge of taking a bank at night, and no one knowing until the morning. They didn't want to have to kill anyone, nor were they especially afraid of dying themselves. It was their ability to get in, empty the safe, and get out unseen.
They had been in luck at the mercantile, the back door was unlocked, the mattresses were staked next to the door as if they had just been delivered. Oldham was working on the back door of the bank while Walt and Charlies went after the mattress, when the two arrived Wally was already at work on the safe. If their information was correct, and it generally was, a payroll sat inside the iron box.
They would have to make do with a powder charge as they had run short of the acid Wally Oldham preferred to use. But they were adaptable to whatever situation they faced. A little noise, muffled by the mattress and they would be in.
Wally was just about ready to light it off when there was a rattling of the front door. Both Charlie and Walt were deep in the shadows, Wally kneeling by the safe when they heard an expletive, the moonlight though the back door was seen and whoever was outside was cussing somebody named Freddy and tromping toward the side of the building, on his way to the back where the door hung precariously from its hinges. Charlie had his pistol out, and was easing toward the door, Wally froze in place. They had been through this before.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Temporary Deputy Dawes Richardson cussed Freddy McCorkle up one side and own the other. This wasn't the first time McCorkle had left a door open, not that there had ever been anything to worry about in Proctor. A town where everybody knew everybody, and every stranger was viewed with suspicion. A quiet, no nonsense town, Sheriff Roy Middleton kept it that way.
Richardson came around the corner of the building and stepped inside, seeing the man kneeling at the safe he opened his mouth to speak as he hand went for his gun when the lights went out.
Indian Charley was prepared when the man stepped in the door, he never had a chance to say a word before the barrel of Charlie's Smith and Wesson Russian met the man's skull. He dropped like a sack of potatoes! Without a word he took up the piggin' string he carried for just this sort of emergency. He bound Richardson's hands, took his gun, laid it on the counter, then drug the man outside away from what came next.
Charley hauled in the mattress, holding it until Wally was ready. The 'cracker' nodded, Charlie moved the mattress into position, Walt moved to the door and stepped out. Wally looked up, smiled, touched his cheroot to the fuse made sure it was going good and backed out, then Charlie set the ma tress in place and followed him outside.
The muffled explosions could barely be heard, and that was good. The room was filled with smoke that escaped from under the mattress, and from the fire that had started on it. Charlie drug it outside as Walt rushed in with the saddlebags and he and Wally emptied the safe.
They paused at the horses just long enough to listen, no one yelled, no windows slid up, no doors slammed, they were clear! They quickly mounted and walked their horses about ten yards before touching spurs to their animals, causing them to leap to a full gallop racing for the dry wash, which would carry them north before they left it for the soft sand, and then into the trees. No shouts, no shots, no posse.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Daylight found Sheriff Roy Middleton standing in the doorway of the Proctor Bank, the back door where he had just untied Deputy Dawes Richardson who was trying to explained what had happened.
"I started my rounds like always. As I passed the bank I could see the back door was open. Now lookin' at it, well, Freddy McCorkle, you know the teller, well, he's left the back door open afore, so I figgered he'd done it again, so I proceeded to walk around back, there was a man kneelin' at the safe, and that's when the lights went out. Next I knew I was bound, gagged, an' they wuz gone with the safe's contents."
Just then bank manger, owner Dwyer Elllis came in through the front door and surveyed what could be seen, two lawmen and an open back door. "Damn it!" he shouted, both lawmen looking at him. "What the hell are we paying you for, Middleton? My bank robbed! There was a payoll in there, as well as other valuables and important papers, and I assume they are all gone?"
Dwyer Ellis sat on the town board, as they called it, and was almost as unliked as the current mayor Eethan Clark who would be there the moment he heard the news. That would not be long as Edna Whipple had paused at the door eaves dropping, then hurried off. The whole town would know in a matter of minutes.
"What do ya want from us. Dawes here volunteered for the job til we fill it, and a mans gotta sleep sometime. You think there was any warning? Any hint someone was gonna hit this bank last night? Who ever heard of robbing a bank at night? In the gawddamned middle of the night? They blew the safe without so much as a peep that anyone heard!"
Dawes looked from one to the other wondering what was really going to happen.
"Why aren't you after them?" Ellis demanded to know, as if there should already be a mounted posse in pursuit of the desperadoes, obviously there was more than one of them.
"Well, Ellis," The man hated to be called by his last name without a Mister in front of it, "It'd take a good hour 'er better to mount a posse, and by then God knows where they could be. But if you want my badge, you can damn sure have it." He paused, "They're long gone, maybe a couple trackers could pick up a trail, but a trail of how many, and in which direction. If they went to the dry wash? Hell, soft sand, just like what edges the wash for miles both directions? Fat damn chance we find anything!"
Then no one spoke, because what Sheriff Middleton said was true.
Case and his boys were camped north-west of Proctor, along side a nameless lake, taking their time getting wherever they were going. Case had not said yet, other than they were headed north toward Kalispell. So far things had been interesting. The addition of Shannon and his men had already been profitable. So that was a boon for men doing nothing, but a surprise that they had actually followed through with the split from the bank job.
It would be a test now to see what happened with the rest of the banks along the way that were on the list, and how Shannon would hold up his end of the bargain, even though they had not parted on the best of terms at Boyer's Crossing, anything was possible, from continuing the deal, to craw-fishing on it. Only time would tell what was to happen, which also gave Case pause.
To the north was home range on the Evergreen, but even as crooked as his father was, a gang of outlaws, worse than the ones he had on his payroll, would not be welcome for more than a few days at best, but then, there was no telling what Elias Steelgrave was apt to do, or accept. Case was his son after all.
There were rumors of mining operations to the north, and it was if not cattle rich, it certainly had plenty for them to take. Mining of course, interested him as it was a means to some easy money by any number of ways. A man just had to use his head. Big Flat had taught him a valuable lesson, it was clear that a gang could not ride roughshod over a mining camp anymore than they could take over a town. Whitefish had been the exception to that.
It was natural for Case to slowly take over the town of Whitefish from it's infancy to where it was before it's destruction. That had been simple, the simplicity failed in Big Flat. Yet there was Guyer to deal with in Kalispell, that did not mean he had to take the town to do it. And, it was possible, he thought, that using his head, he could ease his way into control of the town, with Guyer out of the way. He liked that thought. Pike would be a different problem altogether, but there were rumblings that he was gone. He needed to get more on that.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Walt Shannon squatted by the fire just a couple of miles from where Case Steelgrave was camped. They had seen smoke and skirted the area, not knowing who or what might be found at that fire. They would noon, take stock of what they had taken, and then move on, if there was a posse, they would see the other smoke, and that would take them off of their trail, even though they didn't leave much of one. Indian Charlie saw to that.
There was over four thousand dollars that had been stuffed in the saddle bags, currently dumped on a blanket where it had been counted and re-stacked. Now, after that there was a good seven or eight hundred dollars in 'stray' cash along with a couple bags of coins. Those would be split up between them shortly. The lions share of the money taken, less fifteen percent, came out to thirty-four hundred dollars for Case.
"So, what are ya gonna do with their cut? Put it in another box and leave it somewhares?" Wally asked.
"No. You seen that smoke? Well I'd say that's probably them. we could just ride on over there an' hand it to 'em, but maybe that posse, if there is one, they'd see their smoke and then we risk being nabbed. So I think we get our bearings for the next job and maybe shadow 'em a ways. That is, unless they like laying around out here." Shannon explained.
He was not for taking chances, their luck was holding and there was no sense jinxing it by being stupid. "So next on the list is cross country to Rollins. Take a couple days ain't but ten miles, maybe twelve, but hard country. No posse'll be followin' us that way. And Rollins has itself a nice little bank."
"So how long we gonna stay here?" Toole asked, not that he minded lounging around, but he did have a pocket full of money that was itching to be spent. "The boys are a some restless and havin' money means they wanna get out an' spend it somewhars."
Case looked at Toole like he had lost his mind. "Likely get ourselves shot to doll rags. If news has gotten this far, and there's no reason not to think it hasn't, then the law will be on the lookout for us. So the closest place would be Proctor where we just were. Tell you what, Toole, I want you to ride down there and see what's what. Maybe we head back down there, and maybe we find out if there's a posse out for us."
"I can do that, boss. I surely can." Toole answered. "You boys sit tight won't be all that long." He marched off to the picket line to get his horse saddled. Case stood watching him. Toole was a good man, dependable, so his foray into Proctor would not result in him dallying in the saloon, maybe running his mouth as some might. No, Toole would ride in and have a look around, maybe get a meal see what he could learn, but he would stay away from the saloon.
Saddled and mounted, Toole walked his mount over to Case. "Be back as soon as I can." He tuned the horse and started off toward the town of Proctor as the men watched and Dyer Howe walked up to Case.
"Where's he goin'?" Was the question.
"Proctor, see if it's safe to ride in a few at a time and have some fun." Case replied. "No way I'm turning all you boys loose on that poor town at the same time. Liable to get us all killed!" He said that jokingly, but there was truth in those words. A dozen liquored up outlaws loose in a town? That was a recipe for disaster.
"Yeah, that wouldn't do. Not at all." Dyer answered. "Take some plannin' and some control if we're gonna do that."
"Don't I know that." Case admitted, looking after the fast disappearing Toole.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Toole slowed his horse so as not to run him out, he had a ways to go, and in all actuality, there was no real rush. Not that he would be at the bar in the saloon for more that one drink, if that. Case trusted him, and that meant more to him than a little whiskey. No, he would be there to seek out information to take back.
Of course Toole had no idea the bank had been robbed the night before, actually hours before and he would just miss Walt Shannon and company by a matter of hours, making their escape. And he would not know that there was a posse on their trail, or what they thought might be their trail. After all, right or wrong Sheriff Roy Middleton had to make an effort, and they really had no actual 'this is it' trail to follow. Soft sand left no discernible trail to follow, so it was a guess on his part, and he had no idea how accurate that guess was.
However, as in all lucky guesses, there is always an element of error.
Toole pulled up seeing the rising dust ahead of him. It meant that a group of riders was moving fast in his direction, could it be a posse out of Big Flat? If so, how in Hades had they stumbled on their trail? They were pushing hard, too hard to be cowboys, and he'd seen no sign of a herd behind him. He jerked the reins hard around, and put spurs to his mount who responded by leaping forward, which was now the way back to Case and the boys.
His rough estimate of the size of the party was eight to ten men, in actuality it was half a dozen men, men invested in the town of Proctor, and men whose money had been taken in the dead of night and they wanted to get it back one way or another. Most were unaware that there had been a payroll for a mining company in that safe, as well as their savings and receipts from their businesses. They would see the rider moving away in a hurry and immediately would assume he was one of the robbers.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
There was one thing that Toole knew for sure, that was a posse, and they were headed right at Case and the boys. Maybe Case and them had this posse out gunned, but were they caught by surprise, There would be some dead, and some wounded, that,to his way of thinking, didn't need to be.
He knew that surely they would not come out unscathed, but, they would have a fighting chance.so he had whipped his horse around and laid the spurs to it. If they came after him, they came, if not they could simply ride on unmolested.
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Sheriff Roy Middleton and five trusting souls saw the rider in the distance wheel his horse around and gallop off.
"Damn! You figure that to be one of them?" Asked Ed Price, of of the Omega Hotel and Saloon.
"Gotta be! let's get after 'em!" Jed Gilespe, owner of the mercantile and the general store stated.
"Hold on now, we're only six men and we don't know how many are out there." Middleton answered. "That fella's got a good lead on us and his friends will be warned.
"Hell Sheriff, there can't be but a couple of em, maybe three or four at the most." Nathan Holbrook, a local rancher who had two of his men with him, Grat Henry and Tom Dutton, surmised. "Let's get after 'em before they get away!" And hat statement was echoed by the rest. They would hang them where they caught them, gather up their money and ride back.
"Alright, let's go!" Middleton stated, skeptical, but willing, as he and the men simply spurred their mounts after the suspected outlaw.