Me and ‘Klondike’ secured the dynamite, and stuff, without any problem at all. We took ten sticks. Ten seemed like a lot, but the railroad would never miss it.
The plan was to collapse the ends of the box canyon and take the payroll money off the stage.
“There’s gotta be at least $10,000 on that stage,” Klondike mused as we hatched the plan.
“We don’t know how to blast dynamite,” I mentioned.
“Chang does though,” said Klondike. “We’ll Shanghai him and make him tell us.” Chang was the explosives guy for the railroad.
“Or, we could tell him the plan and ask him to help.” I countered. “That’s enough money to split three ways.”
Chang agreed to assist us. He used two sticks to blow the far end of the canyon. He strategically positioned two more sticks at the entrance. That left us six more to toss at the Pinkerton guards who would be accompanying the stage. Klondike said it would take the fight out of ‘em.
We watched the stage come around the first bend of the canyon.
“Blow it now,” Klondike yelled excitedly at Chang.
“Not yet,” Chang waited, smiling, and watched the scene unfold, below.