Read Online Bloody Trail by Ford Fargo - Free Book Online Page B

with ‘em.”
    “ Torrance, if you’re so worried
about that spotted cayuse of yours, why don’t you just turn back?”
Joe Montgomery asked.
    “ I ain’t worried about Cholla.
He’s got plenty of miles left in him,” Bill replied. “However, most
of the others don’t. Like G.W. says, we rest ‘em, or we lose
‘em—and if we lose these horses, we lose Danby’s bunch.”
    “ Much as I hate to agree with
Torrance, he’s right,” Derrick added. “Twenty minutes won’t make
much difference one way or the other.”
    Bill allowed Cholla a short drink from his
canteen. While his horse then grazed, Bill studied the other posse
members. If pressed, he would have had to agree with Montgomery’s
objections to some of the men chosen, starting with himself. Of
course, no one in Wolf Creek knew of his background. Likewise, Rob
Gallagher, and, to a lesser degree, Jimmy Spotted Owl, seemed
unsuited to tangling with a gang of hardened outlaws. The same
could be said for Doctor Munro. Bill knew the doctor had seen the
results of combat as a surgeon, but was unsure as to his actual
battlefield experience. At least there were no questions about
Satterlee himself, nor either of his deputies. All were tough,
experienced lawmen.
    Red Myers, the tannery worker, and Spike
Sweeney, the blacksmith, were riding side by side—two men who could
be counted on in a fight. The four cowboys, Jimmy, Joe Montgomery,
Phil Salem, and little Billy Below were grouped alongside their
horses. Derrick and Charley were off by themselves, whatever
thoughts they had locked in their heads.
    All too soon, the twenty minutes passed, and
the possemen were back in their saddles, galloping south once
again.
    ****
    Charley Blackfeather pulled his bay gelding
alongside Bill and Cholla. The posse’s pace had settled to a steady
lope, a gait that would cover plenty of ground, but still conserve
the horses as much as possible.
    “ Bill,” he said, just loudly
enough so only the hostler could catch his words, “I’ve been
studyin’ on you since we left town. Seems to me you know a bit more
about this whole business than you’re lettin’ on. Want to share
somethin’?”
    “ Just a gut feelin’,” Bill
answered. “Appears to me these tracks are a bit too plain, even for
a bunch as big as Danby’s.”
    “ You think we’re bein’ led into a
drygulchin’?”
    “ I wouldn’t bet against it, would
you? Besides, you’re the one who said Danby likes to circle men
back.”
    “ That’s right, I did,” Charley
agreed. “I still get the feelin’ you know more about Danby than
you’re willin’ to admit.”
    “ Only know what I’ve heard,” Bill
said. “For now, let’s just keep our eyes and ears open—and hope G.
W. isn’t so hell-bent on catchin’ up to Danby he leads us straight
into a trap.”
    “ Right.” Charley slowed his horse,
to drop slightly behind Bill.
    By mid-afternoon, the posse had reached a
stretch of rougher terrain, land crossed by shallow ravines and dry
creek bottoms. A creek bed, deeper than the rest and marked by
stunted cottonwoods and scrub brush, came into view. Bill studied
it for a moment, then urged Cholla into a faster gait, pushing him
into a dead run until he reached Satterlee. The sheriff and his
deputies were still at the front of the posse.
    “ Sheriff,” Bill called.
    “ What is it, Bill?”
    “ Don’t like the looks of that
creek bed ahead. Perfect spot for an ambush.”
    “ Danby ain’t gonna waste the time
to pull a bushwhackin’,” Satterlee objected. “He’s in too much of a
hurry to reach safety in the Nations.”
    “ I’m not so sure about that,
Sheriff,” Bill protested.
    “ Torrance, you let me worry about
how to handle this posse,” Satterlee snapped. “If you don’t like my
way of doin’ things, then you can head back to town.”
    “ You’re in charge, Sheriff,” Bill
answered, with a shrug. He slowed Cholla back to a lope, falling
once again to the rear of the posse. Just