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Agents of the Vault – Part 24
Part 24 of The Agents of the Vault is here! Trinity fallout! Who survived? Who didn’t? What happens next?
If you want to subscribe to the Grantcast, you can do so with iTunes, or by using this feed in your favorite podcatcher. Enjoy! And let me know what you think of the story in the comments here, as we go along.
Also, if you prefer a PDF version of this part to read, CLICK HERE for that.
Finally, if you’d like to support my projects, visit www.patreon.com/saturdaymorningmedia
Agents of the Vault
Part 24
By Grant Baciocco
“I’m on a boat.” Was the next thing Charlie remembered thinking to himself. “How did I get on a boat?” His body was slowly rocking back and forth. “Am I dreaming?” He tried to focus his thoughts but they were cloudy. His eyes were closed but in his mind he saw the single star shining through the smoke. The last thing he saw after Jane was engulfed in flames.
As he focused, his senses slowly returned. His body was rocking back and forth but he was not on a boat. It was far to bumpy to be a boat. His chest hurt badly. The more he thought about it, everything hurt badly, but it was as if his chest was the epicenter of the pain. He wanted to open his eyes, but he felt that that would cause more pain. Every twitch of his fingers or wiggle of his toes seemed to cause lightning bolts of pain to shoot everywhere in his body. Every jostle or bump from whatever vehicle he was in caused him pain. Inhaling deeply, he opened his eyes.
The blue sky of dawn above the prairie greeted his gaze. He got lost in the blue for a moment. It wasn’t until he felt something pulling at his chest that he began to look around.
Without raising his head, he looked to his left and saw the wooden slats of the side of a wagon. That explained the bumps. He was in a wagon, not a boat. He moved his eyes up to look above his head and saw two men driving the wagon. He could see that one of them held a shotgun. Neither of the men looked familiar, but all he could see was their backs.
Looking to his right he saw a man sitting next to him. An older man with scraggly white hair and tiny, horn rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. He wore a white shirt, with he sleeves rolled up under a black vest. He was set about his work, pursing his lips as he did. It took Charlie a moment to realize that the work this man was working on, was him.
Charlie inhaled and tried to form the word, “What?”
The man working on him gave Charlie a sideways glance. “Morning kid.” He went back to his work. “Just stitching you up now. Removed that bullet. Nasty sucker.”
Charlie had heard the words through the pain ringing in his ears. He took a few deep breaths. Then inhaled and formed the word, “Who?” weakly.
The man continued to work, bandaging Charlie’s freshly stitched wound. “Doc Harvey.” The man replied. “I work with the Agents of the Vault.”
At the mention of the words “The Vault,” everything came flooding back to Charlie. The Vault, the gunfight, Jane, Grisom, the desk, the fire. Images and words poured into his brain as if suddenly snapped back to reality. He instantly had a million questions but knew that in his current state, one word was all he would be able to get out.
“Doris?”
At the mention of her name, Doris’ head popped up to Charlie’s right and she gave out a low whistle. Smiling made new pains make themselves known in Charlie’s body, but it was a pain he gladly accepted knowing that Doris was safe. Doris nuzzled her head up against Charlie’s and Charlie’s eyes closed with relief and, again slipped back into the blackness.
The next time Charlie opened his eyes, he could instantly tell that the pain that had overwhelmed his entire body had subsided. In its place was a deep, body wide ache. He quickly decided that he could live with that ache. He was inside now. A wooden room with the walls painted white. Slowly propping himself up on his elbows to look around, he realized that the room he was in, though brightly lit by a few lanterns and candles, had no windows.
He was shirtless and, looking down, he could see his chest, where Jane had shot him was bandage. The skin peeking out from under the edges of the bandage was bright pink with hints of bruising beginning. He sat all the way up and at the sound of doing so, Doris came scrambling into the room. Her claws clicking across the wooden slat floor as she ran. She let out a long whistle as she closed the distance between the door and the bed. Charlie saw her and held up his hands, causing his whole body to ache.
“Easy!” he shouted, his voice dry and crackled from not being used. “Easy girl!”
Doris leapt into the air. Charlie braced himself, but she landed gingerly on his bed without touching him at all. Charlie opened his eyes and got a big, lick that smelled of sulfur. He reached out and scuffled her ears, ignoring the deep ache in his chest. It was just so good to see her.
“You’re awake.” A voice at the doorway said, it was Doc Harvey. He crossed to the bed grabbing a chair that was against the wall and brought it bedside. He sat down on it and took out his glasses, hooking the ends of them over his ears. “Let’s take a quick look at that wound and we’ll get you up and out of here.”
Doc began pulling the bandages from the wound. Charlie decided not to look down and examine it himself. He’d prefer not to pass out.
“You had a bottle of Whittenmore dirt on you.” Doc said as he looked closely at the stitches holding the bullet wound together on Charlie’s chest, giving them a gentle poke here and there with his index finger. “You get that from Grisom?”
“Yes, sir.” Charlie replied. “He gave it to me right before the final showdown.” Charlie suddenly turned to Doc and grabbed his hand, “Girsom! Where’s Grisom, did he make it?”
Doc looked up at Charlie and sighed, “No kid, I’m afraid not.”
Charlie was silent. Doris, who understood what was being said, scooted herself under Charlie’s arm. He squeezed her tight.
“The Whittenmore dirt is powerful stuff but it doesn’t work miracles.” Doc said, beginning to reapply the bandage to Charlie’s wound. “He died defending a piece of history, that was his job.” He added matter of factly.
Charlie looked down at Doris, trying to not let Doc see the tears forming in his eyes. “So, the desk made it?”
“Oh yes,” Doc said. “Came through just fine. You did a fine job keeping it safe.”
“It was Grisom.” Charlie replied. “I didn’t do anything.”
Doc stood and wiped his hands on his vest. “Don’t sell yourself short kid. If you hadn’t been there this could have all gone differently. Because of you the desk is here in The Vault. And as an added attraction, we now know of not one but two Prairie Fires—“
“No.” Charlie immediately cut him off. “The Prairie Fires don’t belong to The Vault. Doris is mine and Pahaat needs to be returned to the indians.”
Doc laughed, “Of course. If you were listening to me I said, ‘We know about two Prairie Fires.’ I didn’t say we now have two of them. We have no plans on keeping them and would prefer returning them to the wild.”
Charlie nodded, still shocked at the news of Grisom’s death.
“I have to ask.” Doc continued. “What did you do to Jane? We found her, burnt to a crisp.”
Charlie searched his memory of the night in Trinity and it was fuzzy. The last thing he saw of Jane, she had burst into flames. He turned back to Doc. “The Prairie Fires. They got her.”
Doc looked over at Doris who was now on her back, paws up in air, loving her belly being scratched by Charlie. Doris looked up at him and gave him an upside down smile. Doc shook his head and let out a whistle, “They can be vicious if they want to be.”
Charlie nodded. “So what’s next?”
Doc sighed, “Well, we’ve been talking a lot about you here kid. With the reports that Grisom sent back about you and the way you pulled through two nights ago, well, we figure you’d make a right fine proper Agent of the Vault.”
Charlie turned and looked at Doc. “But, I don’t know nothing. Outside of what Grisom ever told me.”
“Well, of course not, but you’re here now, in the The Vault. We’d tell ya all you needed to know.” Doc said, “You and Doris could go out on missions, you know, if you’d want to. We’d love to have you.” Doc reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of folded leather. He tossed it to Charlie. Charlie opened it up and saw Grisom’s badge. “Whether you decide to join us or not,” Doc said as Charlie ran his finger over the silver badge, “I think Grisom would have wanted you to have that. If you decide to join us, feel free to consider that your badge.
Charlie nodded, then looked up from the badge in his hands. “Could my first mission be returning Pahaat to the indians?”
“I don’t see why not,” said Doc, smiling. “Sounds like a good place to start.” Doc turned to leave, “You just rest here and when you’re feeling up to it, we’ll set you up and send you out.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said.
©2015 Grant Baciocco/Saturday Morning Media – www.SaturdayMorningMedia.com
Agents of the Vault – Part 5
Part 5 of Agents of the Vault.
If you want to subscribe to the Grantcast, you can do so with iTunes, or by using this feed in your favorite podcatcher. Enjoy! And let me know what you think of the story in the comments here, as we go along.
Also, if you prefer a PDF version of this part to read, CLICK HERE for that.
Finally, if you’d like to support my projects, visit www.patreon.com/saturdaymorningmedia
Agents of the Vault
Part 5
By Grant Baciocco
Using bribes and threats in Kingsley, Jane and her men had determined that Grisom and Charlie had hopped the train to Yankton. They’d actually been lucky enough to catch the very next train and were only half a day behind them by rail. At the water stop roadhouse, the same water stop roadhouse where Grisom and Charlie had met Brandle, they received the news.
A small, mole of a man man from the train company had come into the dining hall and asked for attention. “Folks, make sure you stock up on food here. We’re aren’t going to stop until Yankton after this. There was a robbery last night on the train ahead of us, so we need to make it through the territory fast.” A murmur went through the crowd as people wondered what exactly had happened.
Jane threw down her napkin and stood from the table following the railroad man out the door of the roadhouse dining hall.
“’S’cuse me.” She called after him. “Sir!”
The man stopped and turned.
“Yes ma’am?” the train man asked as Jane strolled right up to him and got in his face.
“Tell me more about this robbery.” She ordered.
“Ma’am, that is railroad business and as such I cannot—“
Jane cut him off by holding a silver badge up, inches from his nose. “I’m a Pinkerton. Tell me about the robbery.”
“Ah, yes, sorry, ma’am. I’m afraid I don’t know much other than what the telegram said.” The railroad man sputtered. “As far as I’ve heard a group of bandits stopped the train and stole a chest of gold bound for the bank in Yankton.”
“That it? I want ALL the details.”
The man fidgeted with his pocketwatch, “Ah, well, apparently two men, uh, passengers, had a confrontation with the bandits but most of them escaped. One of the bandits was apprehended after he was bitten by a snake that paralyzed him.”
“Doris.” Jane whispered.
“What’s that?” the railroad man asked.
“Nothing. Continue.” Jane barked.
“Well that’s it. Excepting that the two men who’d had tried to stop the robbery took horses and went after them.”
Jane raised an eyebrow in question, “To get the gold back?”
“Ah, no actually. Apparently the bandits had made off with an item of theirs as well. An item that belonged to the two passengers” The railroad man replied. “So they went after to retrieve it. The train then continued on to Yankton.”
“You in touch by telegram to your office?”
“Yes ma’am. Of course.”
“Tell them you want the approximate coordinates of where the robbery happened. Tell them that this train is going to stop there too.”
“But ma’am, I—“
“Me and my men will get off there and we’ll need our horses from the livestock car. We’re going after them.”
“Well, ma’am, we’re supposed to get to Yankton by—
Jane putted out a bank note from her pocket. “Here’s one hundred dollars. Make it happen.”
The railroad man looked at the money. He quickly grabbed it from her hand, “Right away ma’am.” Then he turned and ran to the train office.
Jane watched him go, then turned back towards the dining hall. Her mouth a solid straight line of frustration. Grisom had slipped away too many times. She wanted to get within firing range.
©2015 Grant Baciocco/Saturday Morning Media
Agents of the Vault – Part 4
Part 4 of Agents of the Vault.
If you want to subscribe to the Grantcast, you can do so with iTunes, or by using this feed in your favorite podcatcher. Enjoy! And let me know what you think of the story in the comments here, as we go along.
Also, if you prefer a PDF version of this part to read, CLICK HERE for that.
Finally, if you’d like to support my projects, visit www.patreon.com/saturdaymorningmedia
Agents of the Vault
Part 4
By Grant Baciocco
It was pitch black when the train came to a sudden, lurching stop, sending the occupants of the passenger cars tumbling forward. Charlie instinctively grabbed the saddle bag as he woke, making sure it was secure. He stood and looked at Grisom who was picking himself up off the ground. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” replied Grisom. “Something’s wrong. Train’s don’t make unscheduled stops in the middle of the night. But get your gun ready.”
Charlie’s saddle bag shifted. A whistle fluttered out. Charlie’s hand quickly grabbed the side of the bag. “Easy Doris. Easy.”
Grisom looked towards the back of the car, “Let’s step outside and see what we can see.” He then nodded towards the bag, “Keep her quiet.”
Charlie reached into the bag and stroked the soft fur of the creature that huddled inside of it as he followed Grisom down the train’s aisle towards the back of the car. Passengers were busy standing, readjusting luggage and wondering what had happened. They peered out of the windows and into the darkness as Grisom and Charlie passed them and chattered amongst themselves, throwing out possible theories for the train’s sudden stop.
Charlie and Grisom went out the door at the back of the car and Grisom motioned towards the ladder leading to the roof of the freight car behind the car they’d come out of. They ascended and once on the roof, they crept along the top, keeping low so they couldn’t be seen by anyone of the ground. They could see torches lighting the area around the door of the freight car on the left side of the train. On their bellies now, they slid forward just enough to see over the edge of the roof.
Three men on horses with torches and bandanas around their faces waited near the freight car door.
Charlie whispered, “Are those Jane’s men?”
Grisom shrugged, indicating he didn’t know. Just then, from one of the passenger cars further up the train, came some shouting. Grisom and Charlie looked to their right and saw a fourth bandit on horseback forcing another man to walk towards the freight car. As the two figures came closer, Charlie and Grisom could see it was Mr. Brandle. His mouth was running non stop.
“—The truth! There’s no gold on this train.” Brandle pleaded.
The man on horseback kicked him further along the side of the train. “Be quiet and keep walking. We know there is gold on this here train. Our man in Yankton says so. Also says that you, Mr. Brandle, have the only key that can release the trunk with the gold from the special slot on the train floor.”
Brandle was a bundle of stuttering now. “Ab-ab-ab-surd! Why the thought of it is outrageous. I have told you that there is no gold, why are you so reluctant to not believe me.” They were now standing at the door of the freight car.
In one quick motion, the man on the horse leaned down and knocked Brandle out cold with the butt of his revolver. Brandle fell with a splat in the dirt next to the train. “Jimmy, search this fat jasper for any keys he’s got on him.” The man on horseback barked.
Jimmy hopped down of his horse and turned Brandle over. His pockets were rifled through and the bandit came out with a set of keys on a ring. He held them up for the leader to see.
“Buck, help Jimmy get that door open and get in there. It ain’t gonna be long before one of the passengers gets the fool notion to try and take us on. We don’t need blood spilled tonight. Let’s just get the gold and git.”
“RIght Leland,” one of the other men said as he hopped down from his horse to help Jimmy open the freight car doors. The leader slipped his hand under his bandana and gave two short, sharp whistles. As the whistles echoed in the darkness, Doris began shifting uneasily in the saddle bag to Charlie’s left.
Charlie reached a hand down into the bag and whispered, “Shhhhh. Easy girl.”
Suddenly a creaking could be heard approaching the train in the darkness. Charlie and Grison strained to see just what was going on. Below them they felt the door of the freight car rumble open and heard Jimmy and Buck clanking about inside. After a minute, a horse drawn cart entered the flickering ring of light the torches were casting on the prairie floor.
The man driving brought the cart around in a wide circle so that the bed of the cart was even with the floor of the freight cart. As he did, Grisom and Charlie heard Buck and Jimmy straining as they lifted the gold chest across the freight car floor and into the back of the wagon.
Leland looked around. “Okay, now let’s get to riding. This has taken way too long.”
“Leland?” came Jimmy’s voice from inside the freight car.
“What is it Jimmy? I said let’s get moving.”
“You gotta see this.”
Grisom shifted uneasily next to Charlie. “The trunk.” He whispered softly.
“What the hell are you flapping on about?” said Leland as he brought his horse closer to the door of the freight car.
“This trunk. Look at all the fancy markings on it. Looks expensive. Old, but expensive.”
Leland held his torch in through the door of the freight car and peered inside. After regarding the trunk for a moment, he pulled his horse back. “Bring it. We’ll open it later.”
Charlie turned towards Grisom, “What do we do?”
“What can we do? We can’t let them take the trunk.” Grisom slid back from the edge of the car quietly, Charlie followed his lead. Grisom had his guns out checking to see that they were loaded. “Charlie, you slide off the other side of the car here and go at them from underneath. I’ll distract them until you get down there. We gotta be fast, if they take off we’ll lose them in the dark.”
“But, what should we—“
Grisom cut him off. “No time. Go!” Then Grisom stood up on top of the car and walked to the edge with his guns drawn. “All right, hold it!”
Charlie scrambled off the far side of the car as he heard the men shout in confusion at Grisom’s words.
Leland looked up at Grisom, “Listen old man, we don’t want any trouble. We’re just going to take these things and be on our way.”
“You can take the gold. Leave that other trunk.”
There was a moment of silence.
Leland looked at the trunk then back up at Grisom, “Well now, old timer, your protectiveness of the trunk makes me very curious as to what could be inside.”
“A writing desk. Some papers. I’ll open it and show it to you if you’d like.” Came Grisom’s reply. Charlie was now under the train by one of the sets of wheels. He was near Leland, but realized he didn’t have a clear shot unless he broke cover. In the saddle bag, Doris was shifting nervously with the tension she felt in the air.
“Something tells me there’s more to what’s inside that trunk than just a writing desk and some papers. So I think we’ll take it along with us.”
“I’d hate to see you do that, because then I’d have to kill you.”
Another moment of silence and then Leland and his men busted out laughing.
“Kill me? You do realize you are seriously outgunned at the moment?”
“I may be. Or I may not be. I may have you surrounded. You can’t be sure.”
Leland pulled the reigns of his horse back, starting the animal in walking backwards, while keeping a gun on Grisom.
“You can’t be sure that we don’t have this entire train surrounded.” Leland said, still slowly backing up. He reached a hand under his bandana again and gave a long sharp whistle.
Suddenly from out in the darkness came the sound of a shotgun firing. Grisom heard pellets hit the back of the train car behind him. He fell flat to the floor. Under the car, Charlie spun around to try to see where in the darkness the shot had come from. As he did, his saddle bag shifted and Doris came tumbling out.
Doris was a small creature similar to a koala bear. Gray, fuzzy, but with huge black eyes taking up the sides of her head. She had a long prehensile tail that she curled around her like a ball as she tumbled from the bag. She landed on all fours with her back arched like a cat, ready to attack. He long incisors glistening in the torch light. Her long claws digging into the wooden railroad tie she landed near. A low whistle coming from her mouth. Being so small none of the men noticed her. Charlie realized she was out and was just about to whisper for her to return to the bag when the horse that was pulling the cart caught wind of her and reared back with a loud whinny. Doris replied with a small puff of fire from her mouth that frightened the horse even more and made it bolt. The man at the reigns of the cart, completely unawares of what had happened, held on for dear life as the cart sped off, full tilt, into the darkness.
Buck, who had been standing on the back of the cart when it began moving tumbled to the ground and landed next to Brandle’s, still unmoving, body. The other bandits panicked in the commotion, and began to take off, firing wildly in the direction of Grisom and the train.
“Let’s go! Follow the cart!” Leland barked as he turned his horse. Buck had scrambled to get up and chased after the cart as it rumbled away. He reached it just as it disappeared into the darkness and hauled himself up onto the flatbed back.
Jimmy, seeing his partner’s flight, scrambled out of the freight car and dashed for his horse. Doris saw this and leapt forward, sinking her teeth into Jimmy’s calf. Jimmy tumbled to the ground instantly paralyzed.
Charlie, scrambled out from under the train car, “Doris! Bag!”
Doris looked towards Charlie, her teeth still firmly in Jimmy’s leg.
“Doris, bag NOW!” said Charlie sharply.
With a sad chirp, Doris released her bite hold Jimmy’s leg and scrambled off, across the dusty prairie floor, towards Charlie. She gracefully climbed up Charlie’s leg and scurried into the saddlebag. Charlie walked towards where Jimmy was lying down on the ground, still breathing. His eyes were still able to move and he was awake, but he was completely paralyzed. Charlie knelt next to him.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine in about an hour’s time.” Said Charlie to the, obviously, panicked Jimmy. Charlie looked back toward the car and saw Grisom climbing down off of it and walking his way. He also saw the conductor and others were now making their way to the scene of the action. One person was helping Brandle up off the ground.
“She got out when the shots fired from behind us,” said Charlie, indicating the bag. “Spooked their horse.”
“We’re going to have to go after them. They have the trunk.” Grisom replied, shaking his head, clearly frustrated.
The Conductor made his way up to them. His lantern spilling light every which way. “Is that one of them?” he asked.
Grisom nodded as he stood.
“He dead?” the conductor queried.
“No.” Grisom replied. “Bit in the leg by a rattler.”
The conductor peered down at the fallen bandit. He saw the puncture wounds in the leg. “Looks too wide to be a rattler.”
“Well it was,” Grisom replied. “I saw it slither off.”
“Hmmm. Well you two best get back on the train. Engineer wants to move out as soon as possible.”
“We aren’t going back. Those men made off with our trunk and we aim to get it back.” Grisom looked back at the train and the folks gathered around the freight car. “We’ll take their horses.” Grisom said, indicating Buck and Jimmy’s steeds that were left behind after the skirmish. He looked down at Jimmy, “Can you hold him on the train and turn him in at Yankton?”
The Conductor nodded. “Not sure there’s a doctor on the train for his bite though.”
Grisom looked down and locked eyes with Jimmy. “He’ll be fine. I was able to get most of the poison out. He’ll he right as rain in about an hour I imagine.”
The Conductor nodded again and whistled for two other train employees to come help him get Jimmy back to the train. Grisom and Charlie walked to gather the horses.
“How we gonna know which way to go? It’s pretty dark.” Charlie said.
“The wagon tracks should be pretty easy to follow.” Grisom replied. “Hoping we can borrow a lantern from the train staff to light our way.” Grisom stopped and turned to Charlie. “We gotta get to them and get that trunk before they try to open it.”
Charlie nodded, “Or before they run into Jane.”
©2015 Grant Baciocco/Saturday Morning Media
Agents of the Vault – Part 3
Part 3 of Agents of the Vault.
If you want to subscribe to the Grantcast, you can do so with iTunes, or by using this feed in your favorite podcatcher. Enjoy! And let me know what you think of the story in the comments here, as we go along.
Also, if you prefer a PDF version to read, CLICK HERE for that.
Finally, if you’d like to support my projects, visit www.patreon.com/saturdaymorningmedia
Agents of the Vault
By Grant Baciocco
Part 3
At dusk, the train stopped at a water stop near the Kansas-Nebraska border, Grisom and Charlie hopped off the train to grab some food at a tiny roadhouse. Grisom, as he always did, sat in a corner so he could keep an eye on the room’s entrances and the people coming and going through them. A difficult task today as the roadhouse was packed. Every seat was filled except for the two other chairs at the table where they now sat, Charlie’s saddle bag resting on the empty seat next to him. Charlie did his best to cut through the leather tough pice of beef he and Grisom were splitting. Grisom looked in his direction, seeing the displeasure on his companion’s face.
“Food will be better in Yankton.” The older man drawled between bites. Charlie looked up and smiled.
“It’s fine. Better than nothin’” Charlie replied. He popped the piece of meat he’d managed to cut into his mouth and chewed. His jaw popping with each gnashing of his teeth, doing their best to soften the meat. As he chewed he scooped up a spoonful of the ice cold beans they’d been served and glanced around the room. When he was sure no one was looking he doled them out on the wooden seat next to him. The saddlebag at his side began to shift and two fuzzy arms slipped out and began scooping in the beans.
Grisom leaned to his side to watch the beans disappear, then looked up at Charlie. “How’s she doing?”
“Seems to be doing fine. The train put her right out.”
“I reckon the train put us all right out.” Grisom replied, taking a sip off his coffee. “Now once we get to Yankton we’ll—“
“Pardon me, sirs!” said a short, pear shaped man with large handlebar mustache who was now hovering above the other empty seat. “There’s no where else to sit.” He glanced down at the empty chair. “May I join you?”
“We’d be obliged.” Grisom replied and gestured towards the chair. As the man noisily sat, clanking his plate and cup on the table, Charlie made a clicking noise with his tongue. The creature in the saddlebag quickly drew itself to the back and made sure to keep out of sight.
“Thank you.” The man said once seated. “Terrance Brandle is the name.”
“Name’s Grisom. The kid here is Charlie.”
“Pleasure to make both of your acquaintances.” The man said, scooping a large spoonful of beans into his mouth. He talked sloppily with his mouth open. “Lots of folks on their way to Yankton it would seem.”
“It would appear that way.” Grisom replied. He hated small talk.
“I suppose form the looks of many of them, their final destination is the gold in the Black Hills.”
“That your destination Mr. Brandle?” Grisom asked, not looking up at the man who he, after a few seconds of watching his sloppy eating, found disgusting
“Me? Heavens no.” Mr. Brandle chuckled. “My travels take me to Yankton. I’m a courier for the bank there.”
“Courier?”
Mr. Brandle wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Ah, yes.” He shifted nervously thinking he may have said too much. He always seemed to do that.
Grisom saw the flash of panic cross the man’s face and to ease the man’s suddenly uneasy mind, he changed he subject.
“Foods decent?” Grisom asked sarcastically, watching how Brandle put it away.
“Mmm hmm,” the man replied between chomping mouthfuls. He swallowed, “So Mr. Grison, Charlie what brings you two to the Dakota territories?”
“We are…couriers as well,” said Grisom with a smile over to Charlie. The man stopped chewing and stared at Grisom wide-eyed. “We are bringing some items to a friend in Yankton.”
Brandle leaned in excited, wiping his fingers on his vest, “What kind of items? If I may ask.”
“You may ask,” Grisom answered. “But we ain’t gonna tell you.”
Brandle’s face dropped. Just then the train’s whistle sounded indicating that it was time to roll out. Brandle thanked Grisom and Charlie and scurried off through the throng of people. Charlie watched Grisom watch Brandle walk away.
Grisom indicated towards Brandle’s direction, “There’s something else on the train besides our trunk. Gold, maybe bank notes.”
Charlie stood, gingerly picking up the saddlebag as he rose. “Think so?”
“Yep. Notice how he clammed up the moment he mentioned the bank. He was worried he said too much and that we may take an unusual interest in what he was bringing to Yankton.” Grisom stood, putting on his hat. “Well, let’s get back on the train.”
Charlie stood, pushing in his chair and hoisting the saddlebag’s strap up over his shoulder. The bag was now the same height as the table and if anyone had been looking, which they weren’t, they would have seen a fuzzy, gray arm, slink out of the bag and snag the rest of Charlie’s uneaten steak and then quickly retreat into the bag. Charlie had seen the theft and patted the side of the bag as he and Grisom followed the crowd out of the roadhouse and back aboard the train.
—
©2015 Grant Baciocco/Saturday Morning Media