Blurb:
Cadzow, a full-blooded Athabaskan Native, becomes a pawn in a high stakes gamble by a Juneau mine owner. Falsely accused of robbery, the mine owner anticipates that Cadzow will be caught and hanged. Since Cadzow cannot reveal where the money was hidden, the mine owner, who had robbed his own mine, would end up with the money. But Cadzow is not stupid. He steps free of the trap and escapes across the Mendenhall Glacier into Canada ahead of the posse on his trial – led by the greedy mine owner. When Cadzow stumbles onto a map to hidden treasure, the posse of whites decides to follow him all the way to the treasure – and then hang him. Once Cadzow knows the posse has not stopped at the Canadian border he has to figure out a way to end up with the gold and keep his neck from being stretched.
Excerpt:
Old Man Sanderson slowly took his boot off the bucket and slowly walked over to a stack of Winchester rifle crates. “Marshal, what we have here is a real problem. An Indian has taken about $50 000 from the largest mine in the Juneau. If that money doesn’t come back, that mine closes. That’s a fact. Now we’ve been waiting for a number of hours for you to get here. I sent my private yacht to get you and I’ve held back starting a vigilante committee to go after this Indian – and it’s my money we’re talking about here. Now, Marshal,” Sanderson used the term Marshal as if Harris was a child he was chastising, “you’ve got a choice. You can go after this Indian or you can let us. Now I suggest you deputize us. If you go after him, that leaves the area without a United States Marshal, you don’t know what he looks like and even if you did, you probably can’t track him and take him alone. On the other hand, if I and a small band of miner owners go after him, you can stay here and maintain law and order. We know what he looks like and we want our money back.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want any lynching.”
This statement brought on a gale of hoots and curses. Rather than being a momentary outburst, it was a sustained roar that continued until Harris finally raised his hands.
“Okay! Okay! Go! Get the Indian! Get the money!”
“What do we do when we find him?” A voice exploded from the back of the crowd. There were a wealth of suggestions before Sanderson raised his hand and calmed the gathering down.
“As far as I’m concerned, we, the mine owners, want the money back. That’s our first priority. Without that money, the mine goes broke. It’s just that simple.” Sanderson finally struck a match on the crate next to him, lit a cigar, and shook the match out. “I don’t care what happens to the Indian. I just want that money back.”
George LaValle pushed his way through the crowd. Jumping on top of a barrel, he slammed his fist against the wall of the storeroom for attention and balance.
“Enough of the niceties. If we don’t move fast, we lose the mine. Now, here’s how we can work it. Parker, Sanderson and I will mount up and head north. Cadzow has to head for the ice field. He knows we’re after him. He’s got to cross that ice field. He’ll be on foot and unless I miss my bet, he’ll walk right up the center of the stream. He’s got no choice. Once he’s out on that glacier floe, it’ll just be a matter of catching up to him. No reason for the rest of you men to follow.”
There was some grumbling, but Sanderson cut them off. “We’ll be taking Alphonse Brougal with us. He’s the best tracker in town and he’s also a minority stockholder. Once we’re on the trail of that Indian, Brougal will follow him to hell and back.”
“Yeah, you bet!” shouted Brougal from the shadows. “I follow that son-of-bitch to hell!”
“That’s right,” Parker broke in. “What we need the rest of you to do is keep the ferry terminal and the city dock covered. Just in case that salmon cruncher didn’t go for the glacier. We’ll also need three men to head south, down Thane way. Just in case he went south. I doubt that he did. That’s a box canyon. But just in case he did, Mario! Sam! Jeff! Take some rifles and ride as far as the breakwater. If he went any further, you’ll see footprints to the water.”
Sanderson pulled a crowbar off the wall, pried a rifle crate open, and started passing the weapons out to the crowd. “Just don’t forget, I want that money back. It’s the mine we’re talking about. The Persistence will pay $500 for the return of that money.”
Charlie and George were already handing out shells.
“And I just want everyone to know that this is not a lynch mob,” Harris stood by helplessly as the rifles and shells were being passed out. “You bring him back here and we’ll have a trial when we get back.”
“We just had the trial,” someone roared from the back of the crowd. “Now we’re just wastin’ time.”
That set the men off. Taking what they needed, they moved for the door en masse. Parker, LaValle, Sanderson, and Brougal pulled packs off the wall and stuffed them full of equipment. Jamming a case of cigars into his pack, Sanderson sent Brougal after some horses and a stable boy to bring the horses back to town once they made it as far as the glacier. Horses couldn’t walk on the glacier – Cadzow had chosen his escape well. When Brougal had left, the three men held a council of war.
“Well,” Parker said as he stuffed a pair of trousers into his pack. “What do we do when we catch up with that skimo.”
“He’s not a skimo, Parker.” LaValle filled his pockets with shells. “He’s an Indian. What do we do? We get him. We get the money. We make sure he doesn’t come back. We don’t want to take any chances.”
Author Bio:
Steven C. Levi is an Alaskan historian and freelance writer. He has traveled extensively in Alaska and lived in bush communities as well as the ‘big city’ of Anchorage. He has spent ten years studying the Alaska Gold Rush to make his novels as authentic as possible. His history of the Alaska Gold Rush – BOOM TO BUST IN THE ALASKAN GOLD FIELDS – is the first composite book of the era. Levi lives with his wife and the most expensive free dog in the universe in Anchorage.
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