I saved the torches for a blustery unpleasant day, and we all went to the cliffs where I found the cave with the chamber inside and a smaller cave off to the left of the chamber. We made the climb up to the entrance of the cave where I would collect our first rocks. Both John and I had picks. Samuel fell in behind John and Demon brought up the rear, until he went ahead of us to go inside the mouth of the cave.

Demon waited for me in the mouth of the cave and he stayed with us, after I lit the torch and I showed John and Samuel the smaller cave we went into. I knew how far we could go on one torch, and that's where we'd mine our first rocks. With John and me both using the picks, it took ten minutes to dig out fifty to sixty pounds of rocks.

I soaked the torches in the pitch overnight this time, and I put the first torch out once we were back to the bigger chamber. I'd light it again to go in the cave I found next to the waterfall, and we'd take more rocks from the cave I hadn't explored at all. It's one of the caves where the goats disappeared when they saw me coming, and then, once I arrived, they scurried higher up on cliffs I didn't want to climb.

Samuel came back from taking the first bag of rocks down below the cliff, and we'd pick it up once we collected a second bag and headed back to camp. Demon went in the second cave, coming back out to wait for us a few minutes later. I lit the original torch before stepping inside. The entrance wasn't wide open like the first cave. We ducked our heads before standing up a few feet inside this cave.

The torch flickered light off of shiny rocks and before we went far, the cave split into two caves. One went directly off toward the cave with the big chamber, and the other cave continued toward the left but this cave kept going deeper into the cliff. We needed to keep our heads forward so we didn't brain ourselves on the ceiling of the smaller cave.

This cave got smaller the further we went. The first cave felt like it got larger as we went, but it was hard to say if it was getting bigger or if I became adjusted to the size. The second cave opened up after about ten minutes of keeping our head down.

"Let's get the rocks here and go back. This torch is about to burn out, hold it, Sammy Boy, let me light another one."

The second torch lit right up. I soaked it in pitch like the general store manager advised.

Samuel held the new torch up. John and I used the picks to dig out enough rocks to half fill the second burlap sack with rocks from this location. It's as heavy as I wanted it to get.

It was nice to step back out into the sunlight. The cave wasn't cold, but it was colder the further back we went. There was a cave closer to our camp that went straight into the cliff. It was much colder in that cave, and even after salting or smoking our meat, we stored it in the cold cave for safekeeping.

Once we brought the rocks back to camp, I put the bags under the seat in the wagon, putting the shotgun on top of the two bags. It was much cooler if not winter cold. I wasn't sure what month it was, but I needed to get the bags of rocks to Denver, and I would have Jack send the results of the assay to Dan in St Louis.

Once we went to St Louis in the spring, I'd find out how the assay turned out.

I was in no hurry to get back to town, but the sooner I did it, the sooner I could get it over with. There would be no more trips into town before the survey was done. We'd surveyed the sections furthest from the valley, and what we had left wouldn't take two months.

I figured two months would take us into the new year and by the time I got all my paperwork in order, it would be February, and that gave us a few weeks before we would go across country to St Louis.

I liked the plan, but with all plans comes the unexpected. This plan was no different.

I wired Dan three times, each time I went to Denver. He had not replied when I went to send updates to him. I took this to mean, all is well. He apparently had no comments to make on what I told him I was doing. The main thing, he knew I was bringing the results of the survey to him and not risking putting it in the mail. I knew Dan definitely approved of that.

I felt increasingly uneasy about wanting to find out there was substantial gold deposits in Paradise Valley. I wasn't sure what it would mean, when I didn't know there was gold in our valley, I thought I should find out.

Once I knew there was gold, it seemed logical to find out how much gold might be there. Now that I collected the rocks I needed to get an accurate estimate of how much gold there was. I wondered if I had a need to know how much gold might be here.

I was having second thoughts about carrying anything from Paradise Valley into Denver. I knew they couldn't possibly know where the rocks I took to the assayer were from. That didn't stop me from worrying.

Maybe Jack would know that there was no rocks like we took from Paradise Valley on the land across the trail that stretched for miles. Most of 1st National's land holding were flat land with a few outcroppings of rocks scattered about. I suppose you found gold on flat lands, but the rocks I was taking to him didn't come from the flat lands.

I would take the two sacks of rocks to the assayer, leave them with him, and have him wire 1st National Bank, St Louis with the results of his assay. That way I wouldn't need to make another trip into Denver, and we could bypass Denver when we made our way to St Louis to conduct the business at hand.

It really was a good plan when I made it, and I couldn't see how it could go wrong. It was simple. It was easy, and everything went according to plan until I reached Denver.

I was going directly to the assay office in Denver. I was leaving the two bags of ore there for Jack Armstrong to assay. I was turning around and returning to Paradise Valley after buying our goods and getting out of town. I didn't even need to buy anything but sugar and beans. We probably would do fine on what we had, but being in town, I wanted to stock up.

I had to stop by the telegraph office that was a block from the general store to see if Dan had wired me in reply to my latest communication.

I didn't ask Samuel to go with me, but as soon as I finished hitching the horses to the wagon, he climbed up beside me as we left John behind in his sleeping gear.

The exit for the wagon was a bit more work than riding Chestnut and Dobbin out to survey. The wagon twisted and jerked up the rock face that took us to the canyon and the tight squeeze to get to the trail. I didn't like leaving our valley, and the wagon only made the trip more difficult. It was cold but not bitter once we reached the main trail south.

It was just then getting daylight, as we turned the wagon toward Denver. I let the horses trot without running them. I hoped to get in Denver before the assay office closed. That would mean running the horses for a few hours, but they'd been at rest for so long, I didn't want to run them right away. I'd give them a while to warm up and then we'd pick up the pace.

My problem was, I had no idea how late the assay office stayed open, and if the assayer was in the building, I'd get him to come to take my two bags of rocks. The general store usually stayed open late, to serve customers who needed to shop later in the day.

Once I dispensed with the rocks and went to buy our goods, we'd be on our way back. We would camp on the trail and finish the trip back to Paradise Valley shortly after noon the next day. It was asking a lot of the horses, not to mention Sammy Boy and me.

John wouldn't expect us back so soon, but he'd be happy to see us, and with that plan in my mind, I jiggled the reins and let the horses run a few hours into the trip to town.

We'd get to the assay office in plenty of time to drop off the rocks.

I didn't like leaving Paradise Valley, but I didn't always get to do what I wanted. The time to go to the Pawnee village was drawing closer, and I didn't know what I'd do about John and Samuel, if they didn't want to come with me. I loved Running Horse. I wanted to be with him. I loved John and Samuel like family. We'd been together a while. I liked them.

John would have his horse ranch, and Samuel could do what he wanted to do. So far he'd elected to stay with us, but he was growing up, and he might have his own ideas about what he decided to do with his life. Riding the wagon seat, I had plenty of time to think.

The thing about plans, they often fall victim to a planner's ignorance. I did my part to make the plan work, but when I reached the assay office, there was a sign on the door.

Away Wednesday. Open 9:00 a.m. Thursday.

"Is it Wednesday?" Samuel asked.

"If the assay office is closed, it must be Wednesday. We'll need to camp at the campsite where we camped the last time. We'll get our goods after we eat. We've got nothing but time on our hands, Sammy Boy."

The schedule I created didn't work if I needed to wait until tomorrow to see Jack Armstrong. All I wanted to do was drop off the two bags of rocks and get him to send the assay results to St Louis, but I didn't dare leave the rocks in front of his door with a note. With what he paid for the few rocks I brought him last time, this many rocks would be worth hundreds of dollars if they had as much gold in them as last time. They came from the same cliff. They were worth plenty, and we'd leave Denver after dropping off the rocks tomorrow. It was possible we could get back tomorrow night, but we wouldn't.

We went to Mamacita's for carne asada and beer. Mamacita didn't come to our table this time, but it was the evening meal for most people, and the place was jammed. The carne asada didn't arrive at the table as fast, but it was even better than I remembered.

Mamacita's hadn't been in the original plan, but with disappointment comes surprises, and the hot meal was surprisingly good. There was no reason to hurry. The general store stayed open late, unless they too had a sign on the door.

Perhaps he'd take this time to ride to the Virginia Horse Ranch he was buying. Samuel wanted to go with me to St Louis, and John would be left alone again, and that wouldn't be for a couple of nights, we'd be gone for over a month, maybe longer.

I sat across from Samuel and watched him adroitly managing his tortilla to mop up any liquid that escaped while he shoveled the meat, peppers and onion in. I hadn't caught on to the use of the tortilla with my meal, but after Sammy Boy watched other diners do it, he caught right on to a technique that worked for him.

The fact I ordered the meal, including the beer, which was ice cold anywhere in Colorado, no matter the weather outside. A second beer put a smile on his face, and it was just enough for him to be able to drink the last few swallows once he sat back in his chair and looked like he was done.

He gazed longingly at an empty plate. He didn't ask for more.

"General store stays open late. We'll go get our goods and camp where we did the first time we came here. We'll want to be at the assay office a little after nine. It won't take long."

While loading the sacks of coffee beans, sugar, and beans, I bumped my head on something swinging above me and attached to the top of the canvas with a piece of rawhide. It was Sammy Boy's Colt. I reached for my waist gun.

As usual, I hadn't put it on. I left my waist gun in the shed I'd built to keep the vermin out of our goods. I'd probably been in Paradise Valley too long. The peaceful nature of the place kept me too relaxed. I didn't like being too relaxed. I liked being unarmed in Denver even less.

I didn't like the look of carrying a waist gun while I was a wagon master. People see you with your gun strapped on, they think it may mean trouble ahead. Indians seeing me with no waist gun signaled them I was peaceable and not ready for a fight.

I never once gave a thought to put my waist gun in the wagon under my seat.

The double barrel was under my seat, but there were only the two shells that had probably been in it for too long. I hadn't replaced the shells since we got to the cabin on the mountain after first arriving back in Colorado Territory.

"I need a box of shotgun shells," I said to the proprietor, and he brought the box of shells back for me to load with the sacks and loose items both Samuel and I picked out.

While I hadn't seen anything suspicious anywhere we went, I knew boomtowns were notorious for the men who came to get rich, and the men who came to take the riches anyone might leave lying around. Even Jack had mentioned claim jumpers.

I could have bought another waist gun, but that would be wasteful. I had a new waist gun I just bought. I would remember it the next time, and while it was on my mind, I walked to the front of the wagon to remove the old shells and replace them with new. I'd remember my waist gun when we went to St Louis, I told myself. I clicked the shotgun closed, confident the new shells did the trick. I hadn't ever fired the shotgun. I didn't know if it worked.

I laughed at my stupidity. I was lucky to still be alive.

I settled up with the proprietor and I took the wagon down Halifax and off to the left toward where we camped the last time. My energy had run out and it had been a longer day than most back at Paradise Valley. I needed to build up my stamina.

I once went night and day and even then, I didn't sleep long most nights. I slept a lot since being shot. Being shot took a lot out of me. I was lucky to have any left in me.

In the morning, we'd sleep in until the sun was well up in the eastern sky. We'd go directly to the assay office to drop off the rocks.

I had it all figured out by the time we hitched up the horses the following morning. Once again I was too relaxed, and not focused after we dropped off the bags of rocks and were on our way back home.

As I walked the horses the mile to Halifax, I turned left to go the last few blocks. I really wanted a cup of coffee, and I was thinking about airing out the horses on the way back to Paradise Valley. I could have made coffee, but I didn't. I slept until it was time to go.

I saw the two men step out of the shadows on my left while I made the turn on to Halifax. I didn't see where they came from and I forgot about those two when I saw another man walking along in the shadows on my right.

I couldn't miss that guy, he was wearing the biggest buffalo robe I ever saw. That and the speed he walked got my attention. He walked just ahead of the lead horse on the right side of the wagon. We weren't moving very fast. Neither was he.

What was he up to? Why was he matching the speed of the wagon?

I thought about the shotgun, and I was glad I put fresh loads in it. It was given to me when I took a job of guarding a gold shipment going to St Louis. I never did fire it. The gold shipment was in a wagon you might see anywhere. No one would think it was carrying $25,000 worth of gold, and no one even looked at us twice the whole way there.

Samuel had seen buffalo robe. His eyes followed the man walking along just in front of the lead horses. He was moving the same speed we were moving. I was tempted to pick up my speed to lose him, but that was silly. We were almost to where we were going.

Then, I noticed the two men to the left were walking along more toward the rear of the wagon, but they two matched the wagon's speed. It was too much of a coincidence for me.

I'd already scolded myself for leaving my waist gun in Paradise Valley, and now I was thinking about how fast I might be able to get to the double barrel in a pinch. I'd placed it on top of the two bags of rocks, and when I climbed off the wagon to take the rocks into the assay office, I'd grab the shotgun. No one was going to come at a man carrying a shotgun.

"Samuel, when I stop the wagon, go get your waist gun."

As Samuel watched buffalo robe walking just in front of us, he asked, "Is there going to be trouble, Pop?"

"No, I don't want to take any chances," I said with no certainty in my voice.

Samuel's eyes were on my face as I spoke. His eyes went right back to buffalo robe.

When I checked on the two men on the left, I didn't see them at first. They were walking across from the rear of the wagon, moving at the same speed we were. I looked back at buffalo robe, and he kept walking the same speed as we were going. He looked even bigger when the rays of the sun shined on him every two or three seconds. He was only lit up for a second at a time, but he was huge and me with no waist gun to defend us.

The wooden walkways were covered on both sides of the street, which kept anyone walking on the wooden walkways in the shadows much of the time. I couldn't see any of their faces, and we were in the sunlight that had come over the top of the buildings behind us.

The two cowboys were probably going to one of the stores, or maybe to Mamacita's. I didn't worry about a couple of cowboys walking along with the wagon, but buffalo robe definitely bothered me. I'd be able to jump down to get the shotgun as soon as the wagon stopped.

I realized that all the shops seemed to be closed. There was no one on this section of old town, and only the two cowboys and buffalo robe were on the street. The cowboys could be going to Mamacita's. Maybe there was a shop open further down the street.

Since there was no one else around, I wondered if these three men might be together. That was a new worry. I wasn't a worrier. It was my imagination. I'd been shot, and I was imagining things that were no more than ordinary events.

The wooden walkways were to walk on, and they were walking to wherever they might be going, but they were all going the same speed as I was going.

I was in no hurry. Neither were they.

Buffalo robe was still walking beside the lead horses, but he started looking across the street to the left. He looked across the horses at the two cowboys. There was no doubt what he was looking at, and I concluded the three men were together.

They were together. They must be together. Why else would buffalo robe be looking to see where his friends were?

I wasn't going to get rattled and run the horses out of there. There was some logical reason for them to be doing what they were doing. It was only a block to the assay office. I could already see the yellow sign and the word, assay office in big red letters.

There was no one out and most shops didn't open until mid day, but I knew they saw the 1st National Bank logo on the canvas on both sides of the wagon. They couldn't possibly think I was a miner. At least I didn't believe they could, but I was going to get out of the wagon and take two bags of rocks out from under my seat, and that would make me look like a miner.

I laughed. I was letting my imagination run away with me. In ten minutes we'd be done here, and we would get on with our day. These boys would get on with theirs.

"Sammy Boy, when I stop, go get your Colt."

Samuel jumped off the seat before I stopped and he was going double time to the back of the wagon. I hadn't wanted to alarm him, but I didn't need to. He drew his own conclusions about what these men were up to.

I brought the wagon to a stop. I looked to the right and buffalo robe wasn't there. At least I couldn't see anyone moving in the shadows. Looking to the left, I saw no one there either. I climbed down and reached for the first bag of rocks, setting it on the ground and retrieving the second bag, and as I did, the double barrel slid under the other side of the seat out of reach.

"Shit," I said out loud.

Samuel wasn't beside me as fast as he usually was, but I told him to get the colt. That's what he was doing, and as I picked up my rocks, I heard the footsteps running on the wooden walkway. Someone was coming my way in a hurry.

The two cowboys came into the street and they were reaching for their six shooters.

Just then Sammy Boy came walking around the rear of the wagon, and he bent to tie the rig to his leg, as the two cowboys drew their guns. They started running. I dropped the rocks, throwing myself toward Samuel, knocking him off his feet. Two shots passed over our heads as we went down. I struggled to get my hand on the Colt.

On top of Samuel, grabbing for the Colt, once I had it, I rolled on to my back ready to start shooting. Before my back hit the dirt, I heard the biggest explosion I ever heard. I felt the ground shake under me.

I looked for the two cowboys first. Where did they go. I heard them firing their guns. I was confused. I felt myself to see where I had been hit. That's when I saw him.

I was trying to get up and keep the six shooter at the ready, but I was like a fish out of water and I did neither as I lay on my back trying to feel where I'd been shot. I knew what it felt like to be shot, and I felt nothing, and where were the cowboys?

That's when I saw buffalo robe walking around the front of the horses with the biggest damn shotgun I'd ever seen. It was smoking as the man took one and than the other spent shell out, flipping them away on the ground.

Plop! Plop!

A shell went into each chamber, and the shotgun clicked when he shut it.

As I watched, not sure I should shoot him, he walked into the middle of the street kicking one bad guys six shooter to one side and kicking the other six shooter to the other side.

Buffalo robe was huge. He moved like a dancer. I knew I should shoot him, but I couldn't figure out why. I hadn't been shot, and he'd shot the two guys I thought might be with him.

The two bodies lay perfectly still as I tried to figure out what was happening, now that I was sure I wasn't shot.

I made another attempt to get on my feet.

"You okay, Neighbor? I been watching these polecats birddogging you since you turned on to this here street. I knew they was up to no good," buffalo robe told me.

The big hand was the size of a ham as he reached to pull me up.

"I'm Big Joe," he said as I brushed myself off.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Big Joe. I'm Phillip. This here is Samuel."

"You hit me. I was just doing what you told me," Sammy Boy said as he was flailing like a turtle just tipped on to his back.

"You'd be dead now, he hadn't," buffalo robe said, having seen what I saw.

"I'm Big Joe. What's a wet behind the ears kid doing carrying a gunslingers rig anyway?"

Big Joe stuck his hand down to pull Samuel to his feet, and he let the shotgun disappear inside the buffalo robe.

"That's my doing. It's what he wanted, and so I bought it for him," I said, thinking he deserved some explanation.

Now, I was glad I hadn't shot him.

Big Joe was a head taller than I was. He was huge and the biggest thing about him was that buffalo robe. I noticed that while trying to figure out just what happened. I still wasn't sure what had happened, but we'd survived and hadn't even been shot.

I looked at the two cowboys lying in the street. I looked up the street, and I looked down the street. There was still no one out in either direction. I hoped no one would be until we did something with the cowboys. I had no urge to get mixed up with the sheriff.

"We can't leave them in the middle of the street," I said to no one in particular. "We don't want to get mixed up with the sheriff."

I didn't want anything to do with the law and a couple of bodies in the street was going to bring them down on us like flies to a carcass.

"I can fix that," Big Joe said.

He grabbed one cowboy by the gun belt with the hand that wasn't carrying the shotgun, and he walked him on to the wooden walk way, depositing him up against the front of the leather shop. He strolled back to pick up the second cowboy, dropping him beside the first.

A sign on the front of the leather goods store read: Closed until further notice.

"Glad we think a like," I said, as Big Joe walked toward us.

"Ain't never a good idea for a black man to be seen anywhere near dead white men."

"You figure they're dead?" I asked.

"These going inside?" Big Joe asked.

He neatly sidestepped a discussion on said bodies.

"Yes," I said.

He picked up both bags of rocks with the hand that wasn't holding the shotgun. Samuel jumped out ahead of him to open the door of the assay office as we all went inside.

"What's going on out there. I was just getting my goods out of the safe and I heard what sounded like gunshots," Jack Armstrong said. "I just got it all locked up and I put my gun under the counter, just in case. Don't plan to be giving nothing up to no bandits."

"Thunder," Big Joe said. "Looks a bit like rain."

He dropped the two bags of rocks in the middle of the counter that sagged under them.

"Thunder?" Jack said. "Now that you mentioned it, there was something that sounded like a big boom after what sounded like gunfire to me. Might have been thunder."

Big Joe politely backed up toward the door. I didn't know where the shotgun went, but he hadn't put it down, so it was under the buffalo robe with his right hand holding it. I stopped looking at him and turned to do business with Jack.

"Oh, Phillip. It's you. I was just getting things out of the safe, and I heard gunfire. What is going on out there?"

"Thunder," I said, since it sounded good to me.

"Thunder sounds just like gunfire to me," Jack Armstrong said. "Anyway, I got everything back in the safe and I was going to go to the door to take a look see. Is it going to rain?"

"Maybe," I said. "A passing shower. Nothing serious."

"These from 1st National's land your surveying?" Jack asked, opening one of the bags.

He really wanted to know where the ore came from. I could see him turning one of the rocks trying to see if he'd seen ore like it.

"Yeah, I'm in no hurry. Can you wire the results to 1st National Bank, St Louis. There's no hurry. I'll be going to St Louis in the spring, and I'll find out what they want me to know then," I said. "I'll be done with the surveying in another month or two."

It wasn't going to take a month, but I didn't want to tell Jack I was almost done with the survey. I wasn't going anywhere until spring, but he didn't need to know any more than I wanted to tell him. I was sure he knew I was being coy, but I didn't plan to see Jack again.

"You don't want me to pay you for what you have here. You don't want these rocks back?"

"No, take whatever your fee is to cover whatever expenses you have," I said.

I didn't intend to return to Denver after that morning's encounter with claim jumpers.

"You really aren't interested in gold," Jack said. "Most men want all they can get."

"I'm not most men. Gold is trouble," I said, and I was never more sure of anything.

"You're a bit anxious. That was gunfire, wasn't it? Someone wanted to take your goods."

"News to me," I said. "Nice doing business with you. Time for me to go back to work."

I wanted to get the hell out of there. I wanted to do something for Big Joe. If it hadn't been for him, both Samuel and I might have gotten ourselves shot up again or dead. We hadn't talked. He'd picked up the rocks and we came right in.

I wanted to talk now.

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"Big Joe"

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"Rocky Road"

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