William Johnstone - Dead Before Sundown

“Yeah, well, that didn’t work out too good, did it?”

Salty had been robbed by a gang of criminals operating in the Alaskan settlement of Skagway. Frank had hoped to recover some of the old-timer’s money when they returned to the settlement, but the leader of the outlaws was dead and the rest of the men had scattered. The chances of getting back any of the money they had stolen from Salty had dwindled to just about nothing.

That was a shame, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it. As long as Salty and Meg were traveling with Frank, they wouldn’t have to worry about money.

Despite his cowhand garb, Frank Morgan was actually one of the richest men in the West, owning half of the vast business empire founded by the woman he had once been married to, Vivian Browning. When Vivian had been murdered, Frank and the son he hadn’t even known existed until recently, Conrad Browning, had inherited those lucrative holdings.

Conrad had run the business for a while and done a fine job of it, until another tragedy had changed the direction of his life. Now, firms of lawyers and financial officers in Boston, Denver, and San Francisco administered things and banked Frank’s share of the profits. His needs were simple, but he didn’t skimp on helping out his friends and other people who deserved help.

Now, Frank smiled at Salty and said, “Once you get down there south of the border, sipping on a glass of tequila some pretty señorita brings to you, you won’t even think about Alaska anymore.”

“Don’t that sound good,” Salty said with a sigh. He looked better now, but he still needed something to keep his mind off the ship’s motion. “Why don’t I set up the checkerboard? I reckon we got time for a game or two afore this boat hits land.”

“Why don’t you and Meg play?” Frank suggested. “I’ll take on the winner.”

“That’ll be me,” Meg declared confidently.

Salty slapped his thigh. “We’ll just see about that, missy!”

Frank and Meg exchanged a quick, satisfied glance. They had succeeded in distracting Salty from his worries.

Salty got out his checkerboard and set it up on the room’s small table. The ship’s motion made the pieces want to slide a little, but he and Meg succeeded in playing a game. Salty won, much to Meg’s apparent chagrin, and he was getting ready to play Frank when they all noticed how much calmer the water had gotten.

“We must have reached that bay,” Frank said. “Want to go take a look?”

“Yeah, I reckon I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a little fresh air,” Salty said as he reached for his battered old hat. “Don’t think you’re foolin’ me, though, Frank Morgan. You was just huntin’ for any excuse not to get whipped at checkers.”

“You’re too smart for me, Salty,” Frank said with a chuckle.

The three of them went up on deck, being careful not to get in the way of any of the sailors bustling around. Some of the other passengers were emerging from their cabins as well. They clustered on the starboard side of the ship to look at the rocky-sided, pine-covered island that now protected the vessel from some of the wind’s force.

Up ahead and to port loomed the mainland, which was also covered with pines for the most part. Lights on shore gleamed through the overcast, and as the ship sailed closer Frank began to make out the shapes of buildings clustered along the coastline. As a sailor paused nearby, Frank gestured toward the settlement and asked the man, “Is that Powderkeg Bay?”

“We’re sailin’ in it,” the man said, “and that’s the name of the town, too. Rough place.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we don’t normally stop there.” The sailor jerked a thumb at the gray, angry sky. “Like the old sayin’ goes, though, any port in a storm.”

He hurried on about his duties, leaving Frank, Meg, and Salty to watch along with the other passengers as the Jupiter sailed closer to the settlement.

Powderkeg Bay was in the lee of a small peninsula that jutted out from the mainland and formed a cove of sorts. It was a fishing community, judging by the number of small boats anchored at three docks. The thickly forested landscape rose sharply behind the settlement, looming over the town and giving it a rather gloomy aspect, as if it were trapped between those dark woods and the unforgiving sea.

Rain began to fall as the Jupiter approached the port. Most of the passengers hurried below again, including Meg and Salty. Frank lingered for a moment to study the settlement before following them.

Powderkeg Bay was a deep-water port, so the ship was able to drop anchor at one of the docks, rather than standing offshore a short distance. The captain came around to the cabins, telling the passengers that they would be staying here tonight, as a safety precaution. The storm would be gone by morning, he explained, and they would set sail again then.

He also advised them to remain in their cabins for the night, adding, “Powderkeg Bay has a rather unsavory reputation. It’s full of saloons, gambling dens, and houses of ill repute. The fishermen, loggers, and trappers who live here are a tough bunch, and there are often drunken brawls in the streets.”

Frank wasn’t too worried about getting mixed up in trouble. He had visited some of the most hell-roaring places west of the Mississippi, places like Deadwood, Dodge City, and Tombstone.

But he didn’t have any reason to leave the ship tonight, either. When Meg asked him if he was going ashore, he shook his head and said, “I never lost anything in Powderkeg Bay.” The decision was that simple to him.

But that evening as he was in his own cabin, stretched out on the bunk reading a book of stories by Stephen Crane in the light from the lamp on the wall, someone knocked on the door. Frank looked up from the book and called, “Who is it?”

“Meg.”

He frowned slightly. She didn’t make a habit of coming to his cabin, so he wondered if there was trouble.

“Come in,” he told her, and the look on her face when she opened the door and stepped into the room worried him even more. He swung his legs off the bunk and set the book aside as he asked, “What is it?”

“I can’t find Salty anywhere,” she said. “I’ve looked all over the ship for him. He’s gone, Frank.”

Chapter 2

As he stood up and moved to Meg’s side, Frank said, “I don’t hardly see how he can be gone. He’s bound to be somewhere onboard.”

Meg shook her head stubbornly. “He’s not, I tell you. I’ve looked everywhere except the crew’s quarters, and he’d have no business being there.”

“Unless he found a poker game or something like that going on,” Frank pointed out. He sat down on the bunk again and reached for his boots. “Stay here. I’ll go find him.”

“Nothing doing,” Meg said. Her firm tone left no room for argument. “I’m coming with you.”

Frank shrugged and finished pulling on his boots. He knew that arguing with a woman was usually a waste of time, breath, and energy. It wasn’t the wisdom of his years that told him that, either. He was smart enough that he had figured it out early on.

When he stood up, he hesitated, then picked up the coiled shell belt and holstered Colt from the stool where it lay next to the bunk. He didn’t figure he would need the gun, but it was better to have it with him just in case.

He had learned that lesson early on, too.

He put his hat on and followed Meg out of the cabin. She started toward the stairs. They would have to go up on deck and follow it forward to reach the crew’s quarters.

One of the sailors intercepted them as they crossed the deck. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the wind wasn’t blowing anymore.