Read Online Nest of Vipers (9781101613283) by Jory Sherman - Free Book Online Page B

himself Nelson Canby. He seems to be kind of the boss. They call him Nels, and another one is Abel Avery. Tell you the truth, I never did get the name of another feller who sometimes comes with ’em. I think they called him Slim or Slick or somethin’ like that. Don’t none of ’em look much like horse traders. More like hard cases, you ask me.”
    â€œMind if we look at some of your horses? I might be interested in meeting Killdeer or the men who bring you the horses you buy.”
    â€œHelp yourself,” Claude said. “Long as you don’t hold up none of the work.” He took his foot down from the stump and walked over to a tree that had been skidded there and began to trim the limbs. He worked fast and hit hard and made short work of the job.
    â€œJethro, you can skid this’n up to the loading ramp,” he called to a man who was leading one of the skid horses.
    Brad climbed back up in the saddle and motioned for Julio to follow him.
    They rode up alongside, Joe who was looking at some horses tethered to a fallen tree. They were in harness and had blinders on their bridles.
    â€œYou checking the brands, Joe?” Brad asked, keeping his voice pitched low, just above a whisper.
    â€œYep,” Joe said. “They’re all wearin’ different brands. And all the brands look like double stamps.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” Brad asked.
    â€œLike somebody used a running iron to change the brands. So it’s hard to figure out right off just what the original brand was.”
    â€œDamn,” Brad said. “I was hoping we could find original brands and maybe find out who the thieves are.”
    â€œWell, take a look at that horse closest to us,” Joe said. “That brand on its hips looks smeared. It’s got a slight shadow in the marking, which makes me think somebody took a hot iron and changed the brand.”
    Brad looked at the brand. It did appear to be slightly askew, as if it had been altered. The brand that showed was a Bar E. The bar was fat, and there was a tiny streak of hair showing at its center. The “E” was wavery, like something that could be seen in the bottom of a glass of water if the glass was jiggled a little.
    Brad took the papers from his pocket that Cliff had given him. He looked down at the list of brands from the various ranchers who’d had horses stolen from them.
    â€œI think,” Joe said, “that the ‘E’ once was originally an ‘F.’ They just took a running iron and put a bottom on the ‘F’ to make it into an ‘E.’”
    â€œThere’s a Bar F listed here,” Brad said.
    â€œYeah, that’s Malcolm Foster. He lost twenty head.”
    â€œWhat about the other brands?” Brad asked.
    There was a dun with a cropped mane and tail that had what appeared to be a fresh brand on its hip. The edges of the brand were scabbed over and Brad saw traces of red in the hide there, which might have been blood.
    â€œThat dun bears the brand of the Circle J,” Joe said. “And it sure looks like somebody switched it with a running iron. Hair ain’t growed back much and you can see meat showin’ under the markings.”
    Brad studied the list of ranch brands.
    â€œThere’s a Box I here,” Brad said. “The letter I closed in by a square.”
    â€œThat’s Jerry Iverson’s brand,” Joe said. “You look real close and can see where the circle is fatter on the corners. Somebody turned that box into a circle and added a pigtail at the bottom to turn it into a ‘J.’”
    â€œWell, that’s enough for me,” Brad said. “I learned from the boss there who is head man in this horse-thieving business.”
    â€œWho would that be?” Joe asked.
    â€œA half-breed name of Jordan Killdeer. Ever heard of him?”
    â€œNope. Name doesn’t ring no bell.”
    â€œI also got the names of