The Two Devils Read Free Page A

dug in with teeth and fingernails and all my strength.
    "Let me go,” it pleaded in a quivering voice.
    I held on tight. “Don't like it out here?"
    "How did you know?” Its voice was now crackly and dry. “Let me go?"
    "You shouldn't play with your food. That's what my grandma always said.” The squirming weakened, but I held on tight just the same. “You're not getting back inside that cave. You lure victims to your lair, so you must not be mobile.” The thing was getting weaker. Then, it began to change. It sort of crumpled into a black blob, turned to dust, then it blew away on the afternoon breeze.
    I sat up. My shoulder hurt. I was covered with sweat and blood, but was alive and nothing was broken. As I caught my breath, people—or at least their images—floated out of the cave. Some were miners from before my arrival, some were the Spaniards it had talked about, and there were a few Indians, and then there was Ruth. I looked at her. I sensed they were all going someplace good. Then, they all sort of faded off into the sky. I picked myself up, brushed off, then headed back down toward the camp.
    "What you been up to, boy?” Roy shook his head while he looked me over. “Plum filthy."
    "Oh, I, uh ... fell off a cliff,” I answered. “You got any whisky, Roy?"
    "Whisky” Roy asked. “Looks like you already had some."
    "You got any whisky or not?” I soon had a whole bottle in front of me. It was the cheap stuff that makes men sick. Later on, I found out they weren't kidding. They told me I turned green. I sure felt green. I learned what dry heaves and hangovers are all about.
    The entity was right. The gold was running out. The mine closed about a month later. I found a job cooking at another mining camp that was only a few miles away, and even managed a nickel a day raise. They mined silver at the new mine, which seemed to be more in abundance than gold.
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Chapter 2
THE DEVIL'S CHEST
    I knew he was gonna be trouble the second I set eyes on him. The man was loitering around the road looking like he didn't really belong there. He was all gussied up like I was, being on account it was the Fourth of July and everyone was trying to celebrate, except for me. I pulled back on the reins and stopped the Driscoll Mining Company buckboard right in the middle of the road.
    "Could you help a poor fellow out by giving him a lift?” he asked me.
    "I reckon,” I replied. “Where ya headed?"
    "Up yonder a ways,” was his answer.
    "All righty,” I decided. “Name's Miles, Miles O'Malley.” I extended my hand.
    He shook it. His hand was cold and clammy, a lot like shaking hands with a snake. “Nick.” We rode on for a full minute. “Nick Mephistopheles. I'm not really from around here."
    "Who is?” I asked.
    "You've got a point, Miles,” Nick agreed.
    I turned the team off the badly rutted road and onto a really terrible one. “You want off here, or you going to the mine?"
    "I think I'll stop by the mine, if you don't mind,” he decided.
    "Suit yourself.” I didn't really care. I just kept hoping none of the supplies would bounce out when we hit the bumps in the road. These people were real good to me and I hadn't been fired now in nearly three months. After a mile of bouncing around, we came to the mining camp.
    This was a pretty ordinary small mine operation. We had one main tunnel that went way back into the mountain.
    "Just let me out by the office, if you please?” Nick asked.
    The office was a canvas tent with windows. I stopped the team right in front. Mr. Driscoll was sitting in his rocker out in front, aiming for his brass spittoon. He never made it. “They was out of crackers, but I brung everything else, Mr. Driscoll,” I reported.
    "Well, you know where it goes. Everyone, except Clyde and you, went off someplace. Course, it is a holiday,” my boss told me. Then he looked at Nick. “Mister, I ain't selling the mine. Why you keep coming out here?"
    It did seem a little