Staunton Series Ch. # 14 (continued)

Chapter # 14 continued.

                                       “I think I got him, Ian” said Jim. “It was that logger you laid out in Stauntons’ a few weeks back. He had plans to murder us both.”

                                          “He did, the dirty son of a bitch,” cursed Ian. ”I am glad you got him, Jim.”

                                         “I better go over and make sure the rascal is down for good,” said Jim.

                                          “Be careful Jim,” said Ian. “in case the rascal  is only playing possum.”

                                        Jim walked towards the downed man, long gun always pointed at him in case he “rose from the dead.” This man would never rise again. He was shot through the center of his body and breathed no more. He kicked the man and cursed him for the dirty rascal that he was. He then walked back to Ian.

                                      “No, he is down for good, Ian,” said Jim.

                                       “Do we ride into Vancouver and tell the Mounties?” asked Ian.

                                          “I am thinking no,” said Jim. “ If we do, the RCMP will investigate the whole logging camp for accomplices.  And they will know who shot this son of a bitch. Then, the feud will go on forever. Eventually, we will lose out.”

                                            “Aye, you’ve a point here Jim. These lads keep a grudge longer than the Irish.” said Ian. ”So, how else can we handle it?”

                                             “Well, I am thinking that I will go back to the yard for a shovel. I will bury this dog right where he lies,” said Jim. “Then, I will spook his horse into a run. By the time the steed makes it way back to the lumber camp, two days might pass. I am sure their lads will organize a search party to find him. But, this area along the Fraser is pretty big and pretty wild. They will never find the body. Do you agree, Ian?” Asked Jim.

                                              Ian didn’t have to think before replying. “I am your brother, Jim. You call the play. I will back you all the way.”

                                               “And, we can never speak of this to anyone, even Lura or Peter Sadler or John Lowry,” said Jim.

                                             “No, we can’t “said Ian. “Hopefully the other loggers will think a grizzly took him or he drowned in the Fraser.”

                                               Jim retrieved  a shovel from the yard and buried the rascal. Then, he scattered the leaves around the site and threw some stones over it, to prevent the critters from digging up the body. He also put some lime across the dirt to further discourage them.

                                              The sun had set. The pitch black of the forest surrounded them. Luckily a full moon gave then some illumination. Jim helped Ian into the saddle and they slowly rode back to Vancouver.

At Jim’s placed, he tended to the horses and then helped Ian make it up the stairs. He washed out the wound with carbolic soap and wrapped it again in fresh gauze. A few beers helped Ian to withstand the pain.

“That ought to hold us until I can get some medicinal wash tomorrow,” said Jim. “Sure, I will have to tell Mr. Conners hat you have taken a fall and will be out for a few days. The man will think us the clumsiest men in his crew.”

Ian looked up at him,” Thanks for everything, Jim. I would do the same for you.”

 “I know you would Ian,” said Jim. “Lets catch a little sleep. It has been a long day.”

The brothers turned in and slept like the dead.

                                        -30-

                                (2,126 words)

                              Joseph Xavier Martin