tightly seated on the geldingâs back, and led him from the stable. Heft Thomas turned Blackie twice before mounting and Nathan followed suit.
  Mr. Ming burst from the ranch house. The Chinese servant came at a dead run, one hand raised like a signal flag, the other clutching a cream-colored Stetson. He skidded to a halt at Nathanâs near side stirrup. âNo give hat,â said the panting Mr. Ming.
  Nathan was all smiles and thanks. He exchanged his cap for the pinch-crowned Stetson and found it fit his head perfectly. Heft Thomas broke into a rare smile. âIf youâre ready, cowboy, weâll light after it.â
Â
* Â Â * Â Â *
Â
  They rode through fenced pastures of immense acreage. The pastures gave way to meadows where hay stubble bristled like hair on a hog. Beyond the meadows, rolling terrain covered with bluestem and Grama grass swept away to the horizon. The vista in all directions was broken only by cottonwoods growing on the banks of Rock Creek and far off, snow-tipped mountain peaks. At Nathanâs query, Heft explained that by making extensive use of public lands as well as that fenced by the ST, Tanner cattle grazed clean to the foothills of the distant San Juan Mountains.Â
  When looking to the horizon, the rolling terrain appeared an unbroken expanse of similar ground. Up close, gullies cut by runoff water zigzagged hither and yon and clusters of low rock stuck up everywhere in the tall grasses. Nathan quickly recognized the value of an alert, sure-footed using horse.
  The sun, arching upward in the vaulted sky, gradually warmed the air. As the morning chill vanished, Nathan removed his jacket and tied it behind the cantle of his saddle without slowing the gelding, it being obvious Heft Thomas had no intention of blowing the horses until they reached their destination.
  The banks of Rock Creek rose with each mile. The jumbled rock and debris at waterâs edge soon made a ford necessary if a rider wanted to cross the wide stream without endangering his horseâs legs. After one particularly long stretch of rough bank, Nathan saw an opening ahead in the cottonwoods and aspens. Heft Thomas came abreast of the opening, tugged on his reins, and dismounted. The foreman motioned for Nathan to dismount and said, âWeâre there. This is where we found your uncle.â
  A breeze shimmered the leaves of the cottonwoods. The coming of autumn had painted the leaves of the white-barked aspens bright gold. Black and white magpies chirped and flitted from tree to tree, protesting the invasion of their private domain. The current of Rock Creek could be heard purling over its bed of rock and stone. Nathan couldnât imagine a more peaceful setting for an act of violence.Â
  Heft Thomas took rope hobbles from his saddlebags and shared a pair with Nathan. âIâm too old and too short in the legs to walk home.âÂ
  The horses hobbled, the foreman walked to the edge of Rock Creek. The bank was steep, but free of rock and debris at natureâs whim. Two large boulders embedded in the bank protruded into the stream, deflecting the current and creating the equivalent of a small cove. Across the rushing waters, the bank was lower, and while the opposite side of the ford wasnât protected from the current by boulders like the near bank, it was negotiable on horseback.Â
   Heft Thomas removed his riding gloves and folded them over his shell belt. âIt was raining powerful hard that night, thunder booming and lightning striking every whipstitch. Seth was on one of his lonesome scouts, inspecting his property, and got caught up in the storm. We found his body two days later here at the bottom of the ford. We figured that lightning or a branch flying through the dark had spooked his horse. If not that, his pony simply lost his footing on the slippery
  Mr. Ming burst from the ranch house. The Chinese servant came at a dead run, one hand raised like a signal flag, the other clutching a cream-colored Stetson. He skidded to a halt at Nathanâs near side stirrup. âNo give hat,â said the panting Mr. Ming.
  Nathan was all smiles and thanks. He exchanged his cap for the pinch-crowned Stetson and found it fit his head perfectly. Heft Thomas broke into a rare smile. âIf youâre ready, cowboy, weâll light after it.â
Â
* Â Â * Â Â *
Â
  They rode through fenced pastures of immense acreage. The pastures gave way to meadows where hay stubble bristled like hair on a hog. Beyond the meadows, rolling terrain covered with bluestem and Grama grass swept away to the horizon. The vista in all directions was broken only by cottonwoods growing on the banks of Rock Creek and far off, snow-tipped mountain peaks. At Nathanâs query, Heft explained that by making extensive use of public lands as well as that fenced by the ST, Tanner cattle grazed clean to the foothills of the distant San Juan Mountains.Â
  When looking to the horizon, the rolling terrain appeared an unbroken expanse of similar ground. Up close, gullies cut by runoff water zigzagged hither and yon and clusters of low rock stuck up everywhere in the tall grasses. Nathan quickly recognized the value of an alert, sure-footed using horse.
  The sun, arching upward in the vaulted sky, gradually warmed the air. As the morning chill vanished, Nathan removed his jacket and tied it behind the cantle of his saddle without slowing the gelding, it being obvious Heft Thomas had no intention of blowing the horses until they reached their destination.
  The banks of Rock Creek rose with each mile. The jumbled rock and debris at waterâs edge soon made a ford necessary if a rider wanted to cross the wide stream without endangering his horseâs legs. After one particularly long stretch of rough bank, Nathan saw an opening ahead in the cottonwoods and aspens. Heft Thomas came abreast of the opening, tugged on his reins, and dismounted. The foreman motioned for Nathan to dismount and said, âWeâre there. This is where we found your uncle.â
  A breeze shimmered the leaves of the cottonwoods. The coming of autumn had painted the leaves of the white-barked aspens bright gold. Black and white magpies chirped and flitted from tree to tree, protesting the invasion of their private domain. The current of Rock Creek could be heard purling over its bed of rock and stone. Nathan couldnât imagine a more peaceful setting for an act of violence.Â
  Heft Thomas took rope hobbles from his saddlebags and shared a pair with Nathan. âIâm too old and too short in the legs to walk home.âÂ
  The horses hobbled, the foreman walked to the edge of Rock Creek. The bank was steep, but free of rock and debris at natureâs whim. Two large boulders embedded in the bank protruded into the stream, deflecting the current and creating the equivalent of a small cove. Across the rushing waters, the bank was lower, and while the opposite side of the ford wasnât protected from the current by boulders like the near bank, it was negotiable on horseback.Â
   Heft Thomas removed his riding gloves and folded them over his shell belt. âIt was raining powerful hard that night, thunder booming and lightning striking every whipstitch. Seth was on one of his lonesome scouts, inspecting his property, and got caught up in the storm. We found his body two days later here at the bottom of the ford. We figured that lightning or a branch flying through the dark had spooked his horse. If not that, his pony simply lost his footing on the slippery
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