Read Online Slocum and the Grizzly Flats Killers (9781101619216) by Jake Logan - Free Book Online

given them to Mirabelle, the outlaws would have discovered them—and tortured him until he revealed the place where he’d found them.
    She looked up at him, her expression neutral.
    â€œI want to find the gold. Let’s go into the canyon, and I’ll show you where Ike found the coins.”
    Slocum started to point out they didn’t have any supplies and would either have to go on foot or ride double on his horse. A small sound, hardly audible to anyone without his sharp senses, came from deeper in the canyon Mirabelle had indicated.
    â€œYou gather what you can for us,” he said. “I want to take one more look around to be sure there were only five. Chances are there might have been one more than that.”
    â€œBut you—” Mirabelle stared at him when she realized he wanted her to be a decoy while he scouted. “All right, John. I’ll do that.” Her words carried since she spoke louder than necessary. She reached out and gripped his arm, then released him and began moving about the camp aimlessly.
    Slocum wished he had his rifle, but he had left it with his saddle and other gear in town. Moving like a ghost, he went to a tower of rocks overlooking the camp. This was where Terrence should have posted a lookout.
    Making his way up the rock, finding footholds and ripping his fingers on the sharp edges, he finally reached the summit. Keeping flat on his belly, he slithered around. He stopped when he looked down. Not six inches from his nose was a shiny spent brass cartridge. At least one of the killers had been posted here and had fired into the unsuspecting treasure hunters below.
    Slocum chanced a look over the edge. It was an easy shot. He had been a sniper during the war and could have shot everyone below before they knew there was a problem. Craning his neck a mite put strain on his injured rib, but he thought he found another spot in the rocks along the canyon wall where another sniper could have as easily covered Terence and the others. It didn’t take a tactical genius to position those snipers, but it did show some intent.
    The killers had scouted the camp before attacking.
    He rose, getting his knees under him, wary of silhouetting himself against lighter rock. Studying the terrain around the camp revealed only Mirabelle going about her useless chores, trying to look busy and not apprehensive. The set to her shoulders told him she would crack under the strain soon enough. He considered the light breeze from the canyon mouth and found several places where someone watching them in camp might hide.
    Two of the dark spots proved too shallow but a third was deeper in the side of the canyon, perhaps a cave. He let his eyes adjust to the growing dark as he stared intently at the spot, then moved his head slightly and used a trick he had learned when riding herd. He saw better from the corner of his eyes at night than he did peering straight ahead.
    It worked for him this time, too.
    Movement. Not much but more than any of the scrubby brush around being nudged by the evening wind. Then he caught sight of a man stepping from the deepest shadows. Slocum couldn’t make out the man’s features, but he was short, hunched over, and carried a rifle. The dark figure drew the rifle to his shoulder and aimed downward, into camp, at Mirabelle.
    That was good enough for Slocum to act. He drew his six-gun and fired. The bright flare of the bullet ricocheting off the canyon wall just below the man’s feet sent him scurrying away. Before Slocum could fire again, the man vanished into the night.

6
    â€œJohn! John! Are you all right!” Mirabelle’s frantic question echoed up from below.
    â€œGet down,” he shouted. “Don’t give him a good shot.”
    â€œWho? Is there someone out there?”
    â€œDown!” he roared as he swung his legs over the side of the rounded boulder and slid. He knew what would happen when he hit the ground fifteen feet