The entrance to the old Silver Star mine yawned like a rotten mouth, its timber supports sagging under decades of neglect. Moonlight painted the collapsed rocks and rusted pickaxes in ghostly silver. Somewhere in the darkness, water dripped like a ticking clock.
Gideon Holt struck a match, the flame dancing in his eyes. "Roddy always did have a sense of humor. Burying his fortune where it all began."
Eli Dawson adjusted the lantern in his hand, its glow barely piercing the gloom. "You sure this isn't just another wild goose chase?"
Behind them, Lena Reyes cocked her Winchester. "Only one way to find out."
The mine swallowed them whole.
---
### **THE WRONG TURN**
The tunnels branched like veins in a dead man's wrist.
Left. Right. Down.
Gideon led with the confidence of a man who knew his way to hell. Eli's boots kicked up dust that stank of gunpowder and old rot. Somewhere ahead, timber groaned.
Then—
***Click.***
The sound froze them all.
Lena's lantern swung toward the noise, illuminating the tripwire stretched taut across the tunnel.
Gideon exhaled. "Roddy's welcome mat."
Eli followed the wire with his eyes to where it disappeared into the wall. "Dynamite?"
"Worse." Gideon knelt, pulling a knife from his boot. "Spring-loaded shotgun. Blow your knees clean off." He severed the wire with a *snick*.
Lena's grip on her rifle tightened. "Remind me why we're trusting him again?"
Eli didn't answer. The walls were closing in.
---
### **THE CACHE**
The chamber opened suddenly—a hollowed-out belly in the mountain's gut.
And there it was.
Stacked neat as library books, twenty crates of silver bars gleamed in the lantern light. Enough to buy a county. A dynasty.
Gideon whistled. "There you are, you beautiful bastard."
Eli stepped forward, boots crunching on something brittle. Bones. Two skeletons slumped against the wall, rusted pistols still clutched in their fingers.
"Bell's insurance policy," Lena murmured.
Gideon pried open a crate with his knife. "And now it's ours."
That's when the shadows moved.
---
### **THE DOUBLE-CROSS**
Cade Varro stepped into the light, his mangled face twisted in a grin. Six Silver Star gunmen fanned out behind him, cocking rifles.
"Knew you'd come crawling back," Varro spat. "Just had to follow the rats."
Eli's hand hovered near his Colt. Too many guns. Too close.
Gideon sighed. "Cade. Still ugly as sin, I see."
Varro's smile died. "Shoot Holt first. Slow."
The gunmen raised their rifles—
***BLAM!***
The shot came from behind. One of Varro's men dropped, blood spraying the silver.
Holloway stepped from the shadows, smoke curling from his Winchester. "Sorry I'm late. Had to stop for whiskey."
Chaos erupted.
---
### **THE GUNFIGHT IN THE DARK**
Eli dove behind a crate as bullets shredded the air. Silver splinters stung his face. Lena's rifle barked twice—two men fell.
Gideon moved like the devil himself, both Colts blazing. Varro took a round to the shoulder and screamed.
Holloway advanced like a force of nature, shotgun booming. "Should've stayed buried, boys!"
Eli lined up his shot. Took a breath.
***BANG.***
Varro's head snapped back. He crumpled onto the treasure he'd died for.
Silence fell, broken only by the ringing in Eli's ears.
Gideon blew smoke from his barrel. "Well. That was fun."
---
### **THE LAST HAND**
Dawn found them at the mine's mouth, the surviving gunmen trussed up like hogs for market. The town would have its trial.
Gideon hefted a single silver bar, tossing it in the air. "My cut, Sheriff?"
Eli studied him. "You could've run."
"And miss all this?" Gideon grinned. "Besides. A Holt always pays his debts."
Lena frowned. "What debt?"
The outlaw turned to Eli. "You gave my brother a cleaner death than he deserved." He tipped his hat. "That's worth something."
Then he was gone, melting into the morning mist like a ghost.
---
### **THE NEW DAY**
Back in town, the church bells rang.
Josiah Pike handed Eli a coffee, his hands steady for the first time in years. "Heard you found Bell's fortune."
Eli sipped the bitter brew. "Found a fresh start."
Lena leaned against him, the *Ledger*'s new headline already inked across her notebook:
**"SILVER RIDGE RISES: TOWN RECLAIMS ITS FUTURE"**
Holloway clapped them both on the back. "Don't get sappy. Still got outhouses to dig."
Eli laughed. The sun climbed higher.
Somewhere beyond the ridge, a train whistle blew.