Read Online Range Ghost by Bradford Scott - Free Book Online
Authors: Bradford Scott
Tags: Fiction
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great help, providing me with the information I so sorely needed. And you have reversed my deductions as to where they run the cows. How they do it I still don’t know, but the knowledge that they do it ishighly important. Now I’ve just got to find out how, which shouldn’t be impossible.”
“ Vaya usted con Dios —Go you with God—” Estaban said devoutly.
“Gracias,” Slade replied. “And that helps, too.”
Chapter Six
The two hours passed quickly, with the moon climbing higher and higher in the sky. Slade got the rig on Shadow who, filled to the ears with oats, was all set to go. With a “buenas noches” to Estaban, El Halcon rode back down the Valley to where the ascent of the south slope was possible.
He rode slowly, for he was confident that nothing would occur until around midnight or even later. Once where the moonlight beat strongly on a stand of cliffs that for a short distance replaced the slopes, he pulled to a halt and sat studying the jagged wall.
“Shadow,” he said, “unless I’m greatly mistaken, and I don’t think I am, the petrologic outcroppings indicate that the lower slope of this area is not from north to south as generally supposed, but from south to north. From which I’m beginning to develop a theory, a theory I believe will be substantiated by future mineral discoveries in this section. You’ll remember I once arrived at a similar conclusion in another part of the country, and that was proven correct by future discoveries. I wonder if somebody else has arrived at a like conclusion here? Interesting.”
He rode on, deep in thought, and finally reached the point where an ascent by horses, and cattle, was possible. Turning south, he sent the black up the slope to the crest, where he reined in again and studied the possibilities of the terrain.
Along the lip of the Valley was one of the fewspots where there was some growth encroaching on the plains. Here there was more than average. About three score yards distance from the point of the ascent, a stand of thick and tall chaparral reached out onto the prairie for quite some distance, a hundred feet or more. Slade regarded it with approval.
“ ’Pears made to order for us,” he told Shadow. “Yep, there’s where we’ll make our stand.”
First of all he moved the horse well away from the lip, where it should be safe from flying lead. At the edge of the growth he flipped out the bit and loosened the cinches a little, so the cayuse would be comfortable.
“Stay there in the dark,” he ordered. Shadow blew through his nose and did not commit himself. However, Slade knew he would stay put. Walking back until he was close to the edge of the slope, he eased into the chaparral, leaned against a convenient trunk and rolled and lighted a cigarette without fear of the tiny flare of the match being detected. There was nobody around and he would hear the approaching cattle, did any approach, long before they reached the crest of the ascent.
The hours passed slowly. The great clock in the sky crossed the zenith and wheeled westward, and nothing happened. After another tedious wait, El Halcon began wondering if he was following a cold trail, if his hunch wasn’t a straight one, after all. Seemed that if the wideloopers were really active, they should have put in an appearance before now, it being imperative that they have the herd shoved well out onto the desert before daybreak were they to avoid detection.
Then abruptly he heard a sound, thin with distance but without doubt the querulous bleat of anirritated steer. His pulses leaped exultantly; he had guessed right, a stolen bunch was being run across the Valley. He picked up his high-powered Winchester, a “special” procured for him by General Manager Jaggers Dunn, which he had leaned against the tree trunk, and made sure the mechanism was in perfect order. Then, tense and eager, he waited.
Some minutes passed, and again the bleat came, much closer. Another ten minutes
“ Vaya usted con Dios —Go you with God—” Estaban said devoutly.
“Gracias,” Slade replied. “And that helps, too.”
Chapter Six
The two hours passed quickly, with the moon climbing higher and higher in the sky. Slade got the rig on Shadow who, filled to the ears with oats, was all set to go. With a “buenas noches” to Estaban, El Halcon rode back down the Valley to where the ascent of the south slope was possible.
He rode slowly, for he was confident that nothing would occur until around midnight or even later. Once where the moonlight beat strongly on a stand of cliffs that for a short distance replaced the slopes, he pulled to a halt and sat studying the jagged wall.
“Shadow,” he said, “unless I’m greatly mistaken, and I don’t think I am, the petrologic outcroppings indicate that the lower slope of this area is not from north to south as generally supposed, but from south to north. From which I’m beginning to develop a theory, a theory I believe will be substantiated by future mineral discoveries in this section. You’ll remember I once arrived at a similar conclusion in another part of the country, and that was proven correct by future discoveries. I wonder if somebody else has arrived at a like conclusion here? Interesting.”
He rode on, deep in thought, and finally reached the point where an ascent by horses, and cattle, was possible. Turning south, he sent the black up the slope to the crest, where he reined in again and studied the possibilities of the terrain.
Along the lip of the Valley was one of the fewspots where there was some growth encroaching on the plains. Here there was more than average. About three score yards distance from the point of the ascent, a stand of thick and tall chaparral reached out onto the prairie for quite some distance, a hundred feet or more. Slade regarded it with approval.
“ ’Pears made to order for us,” he told Shadow. “Yep, there’s where we’ll make our stand.”
First of all he moved the horse well away from the lip, where it should be safe from flying lead. At the edge of the growth he flipped out the bit and loosened the cinches a little, so the cayuse would be comfortable.
“Stay there in the dark,” he ordered. Shadow blew through his nose and did not commit himself. However, Slade knew he would stay put. Walking back until he was close to the edge of the slope, he eased into the chaparral, leaned against a convenient trunk and rolled and lighted a cigarette without fear of the tiny flare of the match being detected. There was nobody around and he would hear the approaching cattle, did any approach, long before they reached the crest of the ascent.
The hours passed slowly. The great clock in the sky crossed the zenith and wheeled westward, and nothing happened. After another tedious wait, El Halcon began wondering if he was following a cold trail, if his hunch wasn’t a straight one, after all. Seemed that if the wideloopers were really active, they should have put in an appearance before now, it being imperative that they have the herd shoved well out onto the desert before daybreak were they to avoid detection.
Then abruptly he heard a sound, thin with distance but without doubt the querulous bleat of anirritated steer. His pulses leaped exultantly; he had guessed right, a stolen bunch was being run across the Valley. He picked up his high-powered Winchester, a “special” procured for him by General Manager Jaggers Dunn, which he had leaned against the tree trunk, and made sure the mechanism was in perfect order. Then, tense and eager, he waited.
Some minutes passed, and again the bleat came, much closer. Another ten minutes
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