Read Online Leadville by James D. Best - Free Book Online

think Indians packed with them.” I glanced at Red. “At least not Indians that want to live like their forefathers.”
    “I ’xpect you paid for those supplies,” Sharp said.
    “Me?”
    “That two-hundred-dollar credit you set up at the general store.”
    “Jeff’s right,” McAllen said. “The posse probably traded those goods to the Utes.”
    “For what?” I asked.
    “That’s what Red will find out from that boy.”
    I looked at Red and then at the youth. “I’ll go get our horses.”
    “Thanks,” McAllen said. “Don’t forget to pick up the field glasses.”
    Without a word, Sharp hitched up alongside me, and we both walked to the rise where we had first observed the Ute camp. I pulled out my watch and was startled to see that less than an hour had passed since the two returning hunters had surprised us.
    “Will it go bad for the boy?” I asked.
    “No worse than if he had been caught by Shoshone.”
    “Are you justifying what’s going on back there?”
    “Nope. Just somethin’ that’s gotta be done.”
    “Why are you with me?”
    “I’d rather not be a demon in that boy’s nightmares.”

Chapter 13
     
    Sharp and I each led two horses back to the Ute camp. As we approached, McAllen marched toward us looking so grim and threatening that I had to suppress an impulse to mount up and ride away.
    When he got within earshot, he yelled, “We’re returning to Durango. Now!”
    I looked at the sky. “Captain, we can’t—”
    “Now, goddamn it!”
    Without another word, Sharp and I stepped into our saddles, and by the time we had gathered up the reins, the rushing McAllen had reached us and swung onto his horse without a moment’s hesitation.
    “Jeff, run Red’s horse down to the camp and tether him. Move it!”
    As Sharp trotted down to the camp, I asked, “Red’s not coming with us?”
    “He’s staying with the boy for a few days. He’ll catch up later.”
    I felt relief that the boy was still alive. We watched Sharp in the distance lean off his saddle and flip the reins of Red’s horse around a drying rack and then wheel his horse about and race back to us at a full gallop. I thought when Sharp reached us, we would get some explanation, but McAllen rode off before Sharp arrived. Soon, we made a single-file line and retraced our path from earlier in the day.
    We rode hard for about an hour, and then dusk slowed us down to a walk. We were not on a trail, and the mountain terrain was rough going. Without Red to guide us, I wondered how far McAllen would continue to push on in the dark. In another half hour, I got my answer.
    McAllen pulled up under some rocks in a flattish space no bigger than a one-room cabin. “We’ll wait here until light,” he said.
    I noticed he didn’t say sleep. After we dismounted and unsaddled the horses, I realized this would be a close space for three men and three horses, but it was too dark to find another place for the horses. Perhaps McAllen didn’t intend to sleep.
    “Build your goddamn fire,” McAllen said with bitterness. “We ain’t hiding from anyone now.”
    McAllen normally kept his thoughts to himself, and his current mood certainly did not invite questions. Sharp and I gingerly felt our way in different directions to gather up some wood. Soon we had a decent fire, but that was all. Coffee and anything that might be improved with cooking had been left at base camp. We sat around the light and warmth of the fire, gnawing on jerky and hardtack between sips of Kentucky whiskey from our flasks. It had been one hell of a day.
    Sharp went to his bag and pulled out a small burlap sack. As he stood over us, he popped raisins into his mouth. Finally, he dangled the sack by its tie string in front of McAllen. “Raisins, Joseph?”
    I wondered for a moment whether McAllen would draw his gun or accept the offer. Eventually, he reached up and accepted the sack and then spilled some of the raisins into his palm. “Sit down, Jeff. I’ll tell you two