Читать книгу Gold Mountain - Vicki Delany - Страница 13

“Psst. Angus. Over here.”

Angus MacGillivray peered into the Dawson City alley. The buildings on either side blocked the sun, and all he could see were shadows. He heard something rustle and thought it might be a dog. But dogs didn’t know his name. “What? Who’s there?

A hissing sound. Then, “It’s me. Are you alone?”

“Yes, I’m alone.”

A shape broke out of the gloom. Paul Sheridan peered around the corners, as though checking that Angus wasn’t lying.

“Are you hiding from someone?” Angus asked.

“I don’t want to run into your Fly Bull buddy, that’s all.”

“You mean a Mountie?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t nice of you to tell them about me, Angus.”

Angus started walking. Sheridan followed. “I don’t care about being nice. It was nothing more than my duty to tell the police a known criminal is in town.”

“I’m completely legitimate now. I’ve left Soapy and the gang. I’m here to find gold. Same reason as everyone else.”

“Tell them that then, why don’t you?”

“I avoid contact with the police whenever possible.”

Angus rolled his eyes.

“Oh, yes,” Sheridan said, “I understand why you might be suspicious. But I’ve given up my evil ways.”

A horse and cart were stranded in the intersection. Muck came halfway up the cart’s wheels. The horse was so thin, Angus could count every rib. The screaming driver flayed its flanks, and spittle and mud sprayed in all directions. Men were gathered to watch, and someone laid a bet on how long it would be before the horse dropped dead.

Angus turned away. “I thought you said you weren’t interested in prospecting. You aren’t going to find gold hanging around Dawson. You have to go to the Creeks.”

Sheridan tapped the side of his nose. “Ah, boy, there you’re wrong. Let everyone else go to the Creeks and find a nugget or two, a couple of ounces of dust. Me, I have bigger plans.”

Despite himself, Angus asked, “What plans?”

“That’s why I need to talk to your mother. I went to collect her for supper last night, but Walker threw me out. I didn’t even get to see her. I sent word I was waiting, but Walker never gave her my message. I must have stood in the street for an hour or more. I don’t like waiting.” His voice turned hard on the last sentence.

Remembering he was supposed to be friendly, he gave Angus a smile that was more of a grimace.

“Why’s the bloody town so quiet anyway? Where the hell’s everyone gone?”

“It’s Sunday. Businesses are closed.”

“I’d heard they did that. Didn’t actually believe it. You mean men in this town are lily-livered enough to let the Fly Bulls shut their business down for a whole day?”

“Not only business, but any work. A man was arrested last winter for chopping wood for his own stove.” Angus debated telling Sheridan that he could also be arrested for using vile language, particularly in the presence of a female or a minor, but he held his tongue. Let the man learn the hard way.

Sheridan shook his head as he digested the news. “Soapy’s done for,” he said apropos of nothing. “Losing control of the town. Fellows coming in don’t want to do what Soapy tells them. Townsfolk are thinking Soapy’s bad for business. Miners coming back out are avoiding Skagway ’cause they don’t want trouble from Soapy. Business owners don’t like that. There’s talk they’re getting a committee together to force Soapy out.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry to hear that,” Angus said.

“So, being the sensible fellow I am, I figured it was time to strike out on my own.” Sheridan pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow. Last night’s rainfall had done nothing to cut the day’s heat. “Look, Angus, let’s go round to your house now. I’ll talk to your mother and tell her my plan.”

“Uh, my ma’s uh, not home. She’s gone for lunch at a … friend’s house. That’s right, she’s having lunch with a friend. A lady friend.”

“I’ll join her there, escort her home.”

“I don’t know where it is. Her friend’s house, I mean.”

“You wouldn’t be having me on, would you boy? I don’t like to be lied to.”

“No, sir. Why don’t you tell me your plan and I’ll talk to Ma about it. See if she’s interested.”

Sheridan touched his hand to his chest. He stroked his jacket pocket. “No. You let your tongue slip and the news’ll be all over town.”

Angus didn’t much care. He doubted Paul Sheridan had any great secret, and he was about as sure as he could be his mother wasn’t interested in any harebrained scheme the man might come up with. “Suit yourself. I gotta go. Bye.”

Angus darted across the street. Mud squelched under his boots and he heard Sheridan shout after him, “I can tell you one thing, boy. You’ll want to start packing.”