Robbing Up a Storm

Robbing Up A Storm
The Day The Bank Robbery Got Rained Out

“Hey Orgille!”
“What! And this better be good, I wuz just about asleep!” said a voice from the pile of shabby clothes.
“Guess what?” said Willie excitedly.
“What?” responded Orgille.
“Well, ain’t you gonna guess?”
“No, I ain’t gonna guess. And if you don’t tell me and be quick about it, I’m a gonna take this stick and beat the living daylights out’n you!” he exploded.
“Well, being as you put it that way, I ain’t so sure I’m a gonna tell ya.”
“Willie,” Orgille started, with slow and measured tones, “You done woke me up from a mighty sweet dream and you ain’t gonna tell me why? I ain't gonna need a stick cause I’m gonna choke the life rite out’n that scrawny little hide of yorn! What in tarnation you jest dyin' to tell me?”
“Well, now, they’s a shipment of money they’s a branging to the bank right here in Babel,” he said.
“A branging money to this bank?” said an amused Orgille, rubbing his chin whiskers. “And how much money?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know, but hit’s a bunch,” Willie assured him.
“And how do you know that?”
“'Cause my third cousin, Harley said they’s a branging it in a big old iron wagon with a passel of guards a ridin’ shotgun,” he said proudly.
Since Orgille was the smart one of this duo, he had to ask the questions no one else thought about. “And how does Harley know all this?”
“Well, I don’t know, but he said hit wuz thu gospul truth. He knows stuff lack that,” explained Willie.
“Yor cousin is a drunk, Willie,” Orgille said.
“Well, I know that, but he’s a smart drunk…leastwise his mama sez so.”
“That may be, but if they’s branging all them guards, don’t you thank they gonna stay around and guard it? And how long will that money be in our bank?”
“Them guards gonna stay around the bank, at least till the Army gits here to take it to the fort. But, I gotta plan so as we kin take that money without enybody a seein’ us.”
“Do you remember ‘at time you got up a plan to rob thu wagon train over in Buzzard Gulch?” asked Orgille.
“Yeah,” replied Willie.
“And how did that turn out?”
“Well, I don’t rightly r’member all the details…” stuttered Willie.
“Well, let me answer that, not too good!” said Orgille. “As a matter-o-fack, I still occasionally pick buckshot out’n my butt from that time.”
“Well, they wuz a little hitch in nat plan, but this one’s dif’runt,” said Willie.
“Oh yeah? Well when you got that plan up to rustle some cattle off’n thu Lazy Bar hit wuz s’posed to be dif’runt, too. How’d that plan go?” asked Orgille, methodically nailing him with pointed questions.
“Well…” said Willie searching for a suitable non-incriminating answer.
“Let me answer that one, too,” said Orgille, “Not too good! Every time I pull my pants down in a crowd somebody has to ask whose brand is that on my butt.”
“What cha doing pulling yor pants down in a crowd, enyway?” Willie asked innocently.
“None of yor bis-wax and I’ll ask the silly questions, if you don’t mind!” he said heatedly. “I know I’m gonna regret this, but what kind a plan you got?”
“When they brang that money in here they’s gonna have them private guards all over town, but I know sumthin’ they don’t know, cause I been a livin’ here fer a long time,” he said smiling at his advantage.
“Well, what are you gonna to enlighten me or just keep this secret information all to yorsef?” shouted Orgille.
“They’s a mine shaft what ends rite under the General Store. Jist two hunnert feet from all ‘at money.”
“So?”
“Hit’s a cakewalk across thu street to git thu money,” Willie concluded. “We kin dig ‘at tun’el in 24 hours and not even break a sweat. Nobody will see us. Nobody will hear us. They won’t know who dun it; they’ll just know the money’s gone when they open that safe on Monday when thu Army comes to git it. And we’ll be long gone!”
“Willie,” Orgille said, with excitement showing in his voice, “That’s the best plan I’ve ever heard! They’s jist one thang wrong with it.”
“Whut’s that, Orgille?” asked a dejected Willie.
“Yor the one what thunk it up and you ain’t never thunk up anything that worked,” he said.
“What about that goat lottery?” asked Willie.
“Well, that wuz a good 'ern," said a grinning Orgille. "And it did turn out purty good, but ‘at wuz jest small taters. Hit’s thu big ‘uns that go south on you and this is a big ‘un. A good ole big ‘un!
“But, les do it, Orgille. I’d do it all by myself, but I need some help,” pleaded Willie.
“OK, against my better judgment, but I’m in. Les go git our supplies.”

Friday morning broke with cloudy skies in the west, but otherwise pleasant. They parked themselves on the benches outside the saloon and waited for the iron wagon to arrive with all the Army money. About 2:30, it clanked into town with thirty armed Pinkerton guards. They had a reputation of being efficient and, like the Mounties, always getting their man. Orgille considered backing out.

"Willie, I ain't shor we oughta do this. Them Pinkertons don't ever give up on a man hunt."
But, Willie said that was the beauty of this robbery. Others would be scared to take because of the Pinkertons, but when the robbery was discovered the Army would be in charge and it would be their responsibility. The Pinkertons would be out of it.
"That's a good point," said Orgille. "Okay, let's do it."
Satisfied everything Willie had said was fact, they headed up to the mine to begin digging. It was about a mile through the mineshaft to the spot under the General Store, and they used a wooden sledge to transport their supplies. It seemed the miners who dug this shaft had a bad compass and nothing to show they weren't digging deeper in the mountain. They thought they were digging deeper when instead, they were digging just below the surface toward town. At the place where the General store would later stand, they broke through the surface and everyone in town laughed them out of town. Eventually the hole was filled in the hole, and later the General Store was built on the spot that further sealed the hole.
With a compass and string exactly two hundred and eleven feet long, and a pan of water to show them when they were digging level and not down, they began digging their tunnel to financial freedom.

“Horace,” said Henry Johnson as he approached the sheriff. “I’m a bit nervous about the large sum of money in my bank. Why don’t we send it on over to the fort, that’s where it’s going on Monday?”
“Henry, I don’t know why they sent the money to your bank. You know how the Army works. They decide something and expect everyone to agree,” replied the sheriff.
“Well, I don’t like it, but I’m glad the Pinkertons are here,” he concluded. “By the way, it looks like we might get some rain.”
“I think you’re right. I just hope we don’t get too much, but I wouldn’t worry about it,” the sheriff said, “We never get much.”
As they parted company, Henry worried about the money in his bank while Horace hurried to his office. As he crossed the street, he met Dr. Burns also in a rush.
“Where you heading in such a hurry, Jim?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s Mrs. Grant, she’s ready to have number eight,” he explained.
“Number eight! With that experience she ought to have ‘em by herself,” the sheriff joked.
“Isaiah ought to do it. He’s responsible for the manufacturing, so he ought to do the delivering, too,” Doc laughed.
“You ever git tired of pulling babies, Doc?” he asked.
“No, I really don’t, Horace. It’s the most wonderful feeling to hold a baby that’s fresh in this world.”
“I guess so, Doc. Don’t call me if you need help. I kinda like startin’ the machinery, but don’t thank I want to deliver,” he said smiling.
“Whatever, Horace,” said Doc. “I best get over there to see how she’s coming. Probably be another day or so before the actual delivery.”
As Doc headed over to the Grant house, the Sheriff looked down the street at all the Pinkertons guarding the bank. They were inside the bank, on the veranda of the hotel and stationed on strategic rooftops. Though they had effectively shut him out of the operation, still it was his town and he worried about an attempted robbery.

By nightfall it had started to rain in Babel, and was steadily picking up accompanied by thunder and lightning. It looked like it was going to be a pretty good rain. As the Sheriff was taking his nightly patrol, he noticed a gathering on the street in front of the Water Hole, the local saloon. Wanting to head off potential trouble, he started that way to see what the ruckus was about.
“How’s it going, boys?” he asked the group gathered around the one lone man.
“Fine, Sheriff, but Joe here said it’s raining a powerful lot up in them hills.” said one.
“Say it is?” replied Horace.
“Yasser, that’s a fack,” said the man in the middle.
“Well, maybe we won't git that much here,” observed Horace.
“I hope not, Sheriff, but it ain’t just a raining in the hills, hit’s a coming down in buckets with lightnin’ and thunder. I come through ther this evenin’ and they wuz trees down and a few times I tho’t I wuz hit by lightnin’,” said the man.
“That a fact, huh? Ain't good. Boys, if I didn’t have sumthin’ tu keep me, I’d be a gittin’ outa town. Why don’t you boys see if you kin urge some o’ these folks outa town.”
“Yasser, Sheriff, we’ll do that,” one said, as they spread out down the street.

“Isaiah,” Doc said to Mr. Grant. “I’m afraid this baby is gonna be a stubborn one. Them others come out like zipper peas, but this one seems to be hanging on. Don’t want to come out.”
“Maybe he done heard th’ thunder and is skeered to come out in this weather,” Mr. Grant joked.
“You may be right, that rain is coming on down now. Well, let’s put on some coffee; it’s gonna be a long night.”

Orgille and Willie were making good progress on their tunnel. By their calculations, they were about in the middle of the street and the digging was still pretty easy. If things continued as they had, they should reach the bank door sometime in the morning. They hoped to be at the vault by nightfall tomorrow or, at the latest, on Sunday morning.
“I gotta admit, Willie, you had a good ‘un this time. This one will make me fergit them buckshot,” said Orgille.
“How ‘bout that brand on yor butt?” asked Willie.
“Don’t push it. Wait’ll we see how much money is really in that vault,” said Orgille.

The door to the Sheriff’s office opened and Henry Johnson walked in.
“Sheriff, I’m worried,” he said.
“Well, I’m a little uncomfortable myself. Whole town seems a little edgy,” he said. “I guess it’s all this money and the rain.”
“Personally, I think it’s the money. Horace, I’m plum scared to death some idiot’s gonna blow up the bank or burn it down thanking he can git to the money in the confusion.”
“I don’t thank that’s the problem. These Pinkertons got that covered, cause they good at what they do,” he surmised. “Naw, what worries me is this rain. A cowboy rode into town and said it’s been raining in them hills around the town all day, heavy. I rode out south and it’s already caught up a hunnert acre lake back there and the water is still coming down out o’ them hills. These thunderheads are stuck here. They jest a settin’ ther a pouring water on us. Henry, do you realize this town is built in a bowl? Nuthin’ but a catch basin with no place fer the water to go, ‘cept up. You gotta go up to git out’n this town and if that rain don’t quit soon, we gonna be in trouble.”
“I hadn’t thought about that, Horace, that money been occupying my mind. What are we gonna do?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m gonna havta tell people to git out o’ town 'cause ‘fore long they ain’t gonna be no way out.”
“What about the money?” asked a worried Henry.
“I thank I’m gonna tell them Pinkertons to git that money on over to the fort no matter what the Army says. They ain’t gonna like moving it at night in the rain, but they got no choice,” said the Sheriff. “You know that head Pinkerton?”
“Yes, he’s staying at the hotel.”
“Would you go tell him to git over to my office?”

Henry left, and about half an hour later, the Pinkerton Captain came in. Horace explained the situation and the dangers. At first, the Captain refused; however, when the Sheriff took him south of town to see the lake forming, he cussed the person who wanted to bring the money here. Then he agreed and sent a rider to inform the fort of the arrival of the cash.
However, before the money was moved the Sheriff and his deputies went around town urging people to evacuate. Though reluctant to leave, most agreed and gathering what belongings they could take with them, began their trek to higher ground in the pouring rain.
Then the iron wagon was brought in and the money transferred from the main vault.
By now, water was already standing in the streets as the residents made last minute preparations before they left.

The Sheriff pulled his slicker around him to keep the rain off that was now blowing hard against him as he knocked on the Grant house. Isaiah opened the door.
“Where’s Doc, Isaiah?”
“With Emma, Sheriff,” said Isaiah.
“Tell him I gotta talk with him,” said Horace.
“I’ll git ‘em,” said Isaiah in his slow western drawl, as he left the room.
When Doc entered, Horace said, “Doc, I’ve ordered everybody out of town. We are fixin’ to have the flood of the century here. There’s a gale blowing outside. Can we git a covered wagon and git Miz Grant out o’ here?”
“No, Horace, we can’t. We try to move her now, it might kill her and the baby.”
“That’s bad, Doc, cause I’m not sure enythang in this town is gonna survive this storm. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Well, the saloon is the best place in town. It has train rails driven into the bedrock in all the walls, a second story, and it’s on the highest spot in town. We could move Emma there, and send Isaiah and his boys out of town. I can handle Emma’s delivery.”
“Doc, I hate to leave you by yorsef. You mite need sumthin’.”
“Don’t worry bout me, I been birthin’ babies for forty years. I’ll be OK. It’s Emma I’m worried about.”

Isaiah wasn’t happy with their plan, but knew he had to take care of his boys. He reluctantly packed up supplies and headed out of town into the hills like everyone else.
Horace finally got everyone to leave town and was planning to go himself, but couldn’t bring himself to leave Doc alone with the crisis. Giving his horse to the last of his deputies to take out of town, he waded across the now thigh-high water in the street to the hotel.
As he entered, he shouted to Doc and headed to the second floor where Doc and Emma were.
“Horace? Why are you still in town?”
“I couldn’t leave you, Doc. Something mite happen and you mite need help. ‘Sides I ain’t got no place to go.”

Willie swung his pick and felt it hit something solid.
“We got sum more rock here, Orgille. Better brang that drill and hammer.”
“Les measure and see where we are first,” suggested Orgille.
They stretched the string and Willie shouted, “Wha’chu got?”
“I make it a hunnert ‘n eighty-two foot,” answered Orgille.
“Man!” exclaimed Willie, “At this rate, we’ll be in that vault by sunup.”
“Why don’t we catch us a little rest for a couple o’ hours ‘fore we tackle ‘at rock,” said Orgille, flopping down on some of the soft dirt they had removed.
“Sounds good to me,” said Willie, as he picked up some bread and cheese to nibble on.

Horace and Doc began moving tables into the makeshift delivery room and with doors from the various rooms they built a platform on which to put Emma and her bed. Water was rising fast, having already reached the third step on the stairs. The wind and rain made a terrible howl, reminding the three of its power and danger.
A mattress was laid on the platform, and they gently moved Emma to it. With her enlarged belly, she was extremely uncomfortable, but there was nothing Doc could do to relieve her, other than to be sympathetic.
“Miss Emma, I just want to apologize to you for a looking at you in yor condition. I wouldn’t do it fer thu world in normal times, but I jest thought Doc might need some help, and, and, I’ll try not to look too much…” stammered an embarrassed Horace.
“Now, Sheriff,” Emma replied, “Don’t you worry about it. This is a difficult situation and we just gotta do what we gotta do to git through them. So, you don’t have to apologize or be embarrassed; I’m thanking of you like another doctor. And I do appreciate your risking your life and limb to see about me and Doc.”
“Well, thanky, ma’am, and I told Doc I didn’t want nothing tu do with delivering babies, but like you jest said, when the hard times come, a man gotta do what a man’s gotta do. So, I’m gonna be Doc’s assistant.”
After checking the water, Horace went out to the stairs and shouted back, “Doc, we got water at the second floor!”
“Already?” replied Doc. “Good Lord, it’s only 3 o’clock! Sun will be up in an hour or so.”
“I better rig up some way to git in the attic if need be.”
“You think it’s gonna rise much more, Horace?”
“Who knows, Doc, but I know we better be prepared, just in case.”
Turning to Emma, Doc said, “Emma, you need to git this youngun on out.”
“I’m a trying, Doc, honest I am,” she said.
“I know,” he said, patting her hand. “He’ll come when he’s ready.”
“He?” she said, “You think it’s a boy?”
“Gotta be,” concluded Doc. “I ain’t never seen a girl this stubborn.”
“I was hoping for a girl,” she remarked.

“We’re so close, I kin smell ‘at money,” said Willie. “When they open that safe and the money’s gone, they gonna say, “Whur in tarnation did that money go?”
“Well, we ‘bout five feet from that vault,” said Orgille. “When we find it, we gonna dig around the base so that we know we are digging in the vault. Now, come on and let’s get this last few feet dug.”

As the sun came up, the storm was gone and it was a beautiful day. No other structure could be seen from the hotel window. They were all alone on an inland sea.
“Doc, le’s git that ceiling out so we can move Miss Emma in the attic. This water is still a coming up and it’s coming up pretty fast. Don’t want to be caught with our pants down…I mean, uh, I’m sorry, Miss Emma, that’s not a good saying in yor present condition. I’m rightly sorry fer saying that.”

“Well, thar it is, Orgille. We jest gotta peck a couple o’ holes in it, and that money’ll come pouring down on us.”
“Are you sure this is it?” said Orgille.
“Oh, this is it,” replied Willie, “My pappy worked on this vault. He said the vault didn’t have any iron in it and you could peck a hole from the bottom with a ice pick.”
“Le's find the edges tuh be sure.”
As they began to scrape away the dirt on each side, Willie said, “Hey, Orgille, this here dirt is damp. What do you make of that?”
“I dunno. How damp is it?”
“Hit’s a rite purty damp. Ther’s little drops a forming.”
“Yo pappy say anything ‘bout a sprang ‘round here?”
“No, he…LOOK OUT! THAT VAULT IS A COMING DOWN!”
Willie and Orgille barely had time to jump away as the vault dropped into the shaft, knocking them into the sledge they used for supplies.

Suddenly there was a loud boom, and Horace asked, “What was that, Doc?”
“I don’t know, Horace.”
“Ain’t nothing here that could blow up. Dynamite would be under thirty feet of water by now.”
They waded to the window and noticed some bubbles rising to the surface.
“That’s big bubbles popping up, maybe trapped air the current released. Reckon that caused the boom?” asked Doc.
“Look!” shouted Horace. “Ain’t that water starting to swirl?”
“You’re right, Horace. That’s a whirlpool startin’, but why? It’s over ‘bout where the bank would be.”
“We got mines all around here, maybe the water opened one of them cavern thangs and that water’s going down it. Oh, Lord, hit’ll suck the whole town down it…including us.”

Willie and Orgille were thrown into the sledge that resembled a square boat with runners on it. The pressure of the water coming down through the hole where the vault had been was like a giant fire hose directing its full force into the mineshaft. Suddenly the sledge was lifted and propelled along the shaft like a rocket boat. The water filling the shaft behind them, raised them to the roof, as they shot along on the forward crest of the wave, bouncing from wall to ceiling and back. The speed they were traveling was mind-boggling, and they kept their heads down to avoid being slammed against the ceiling. Willie found a crack in the front and peered out at the coming disaster. Suddenly he saw one of the large old support timber against the ceiling.
“Orgille! Look!” he shouted.
As Orgille looked at what was coming, his eyes bulged in anticipation of the collision that was bound to end their lives. However, the timber was rotten and exploded into a cloud of dust.
“Orgille,” whined Willie. “Member that big curve near the mouth?”
“Uh huh,” responded Orgille.
“Thank we gonna make ‘at curve?”
“You better pray we don’t, cause if we do, I’m gonna kill you! I knew something would go wrong!”
The sledge banked slightly as it rounded the curve, and the mouth was immediately upon them. They exited the mineshaft like a cannon ball blasted from the barrel followed by tons of water and in a high arch.
“Hit’s a purty day,” observed Willie, as they started their descent into the hills.

The storm and flood were gone, Doc and Horace were still alive, and Emma had her baby girl. Other than being water-logged, the vault in the mineshaft, and the damage to the second floor of the saloon, Babel was none the worse for the wear. The buildings were intact.
Somewhere in the hills, Willie said, “Hey, Orgille, you know that little ole town called Jerusalem. They got a bank over ther. Why don’t we go over ther and jest walk in a say, “This is a stickup, give us all yor money.”
“Willie, I am retired. And if you ever so much as mention the word bank or robbery or money, I will personally rip yor tongue out by the roots, and do you bodily harm! Do you understand? Why do I ever listen to you in the first place? Gotta be a moral flaw or mental weakness or sumthin. My momma warned me about hangin’ ‘round people like you and…” he said, as his voice trailed off to silence.


~~the end~~