Long Road to Cheyenne by Charles G. West Page A

because Raymond had already invested years of fruitless search for the strike that would justify his frustrations. For Warren, this expedition with his brother was his first endeavor to gain instant wealth.
    They staked off their claim and began to work it day and night in an attempt to amass a fortune before anyone else happened along. The pace soon became too much for Warren, but he was spurred on by his older brother, who was consumed by his lust for every ounce of gold the mountain had hidden. He sent Warren back to the sawmill in Custer City to buy boards to build a sluice box. It was a welcome break away from the constant toil for the younger brother, but the trip created almost instant competition for them. A pair of curious prospectors found it interesting when they saw Warren leading a packhorse loaded with pine boards on the road out of town. Having no real prospects of their own at that time, they decided to tail him just in case he was onto something they might be able to take advantage of. So Cecil Painter and Everett Jones staked claims next to the Bishop brothers’. The incident caused an argument between the two brothers, creating a rift between them that lasted for several days, with Raymond faulting Warren for carelessly leading the two interlopers to their strike.
    Painter and Jones were soon followed by others who somehow got wind of the strike, and the little stream became the site of frantic clambering to strip the mountain of its gold. Their activity only served to encourage Raymond to work longer and harder, and he was quick to tell any who approached him that this stream was his destiny, and his alone. Before long, the other miners began to refer to the area as Destiny, a fact that Warren found amusing. The second argument between the brothers came about when Raymond found out that Warren had drawn a map of their claim and sent it to his wife, thinking she would find it interesting to know exactly where her husband toiled. That disagreement was still unresolved when Warren announced that he had been away from his family for too long, and he had decided to go home to see them. Raymond ranted in protest, but Warren was determined to go, promising to be back in a month. And that was how they left it.
    Now, on this morning, Raymond’s ever-watchful eye caught sight of the party of strangers heading up the trail toward his camp. Instantly aggravated, he dropped his shovel and picked up his rifle. “Now, what the hell. . .?” he muttered, and walked forward to meet them.
    “Hello the camp!” Cam called.
    “Hello yourself,” Raymond roared. “What the hell do you want?”
    “Raymond!” Mary called out then. “It’s Mary!”
    “What?” Raymond returned, shocked. “Mary, is that you?”
    “It’s me and the girls,” she replied, and pushed past Cam.
    Still clutching his rifle, Raymond stood there, a man fully astonished, as if seeing ghosts approaching his camp. “Warren ain’t here,” he finally muttered.
    Watching off to the side, Cam found it to be an odd reaction to the sudden appearance of his sister-in-law. The bay carrying Grace and Emma edged up to stand beside him, and the two little girls stared at the gruff-looking, silver-haired man, glaring at them in return, with such inhospitable eyes. Cam glanced toward them and said, “I reckon that’s your uncle Raymond.”
    “He looks so old,” Grace remarked.
    “He looks mad,” Emma commented.
    “He most likely ain’t as old as he looks,” Cam told her. “Hard work will make you look a lot older than your years sometimes.” He dismounted and said, “Here, I’ll help you down.” When he had lifted both girls off the horse, he waited while they ran forward to join their mother, who had already dismounted.
    Raymond Bishop stood like a man turned to stone until Mary extended her hand to him. “Raymond,” she said, and gave him a polite peck on his cheek, “I’m afraid I have come to bring you some very sad