“And would you do that, if my father told you to?” she asked, peering at him over the rim of her mug as she drank.
He looked down at his feet. “I don’t know, Missy, I just don’t know.”
“I’m ashamed of us both, Clete. You for not being man enough to take responsibility for what you’re doing, and me for not finding out the truth about what happened before taking Jensen prisoner.”
After they’d eaten and fed the horses, Cletus called three men over to him. “Bob, you and Billy and Juan head on back down our back trail. Take your rifles and plenty of ammunition along with you. Anybody comes up the trail looks like they following us, you slow ‘em down.”
“What if’n it’s a big posse, Clete?” Bob Bartlett asked.
Cletus looked around at the rising ground on either side of the trail. “There’s plenty of places along here where you boys can get the high ground, Bob. You do that and you ought’a be able to hold the trail against a dozen men or more if’n you have to.”
“You want we should kill them, Jefe?” Juan Gomez asked, grinning like that was something he wouldn’t mind doing at all.
Cletus shook his head. “Not unless you absolutely have to, boys. Just shoot close enough to make them think twice about following us. I don’t want to start a war here by killin’ some lawmen and deputies, not unless there’s no other way.”
“But Boss,” Billy Free said, “if there is no other way, then what should we do?”
Cletus shrugged. “Try for the horses first, the men last, but keep them off our backs until we get to the ranch. Understand?”
Several hours later, longer than the “couple of hours” Monte had promised, Jimmy from the telegraph office came running into Longmont’s, where the group was gathered impatiently waiting for word from the blacksmith.
They’d all drunk so much coffee they felt as if they were floating, and even Andre’s sumptuous breakfasts hadn’t done much to cheer them up.
Jimmy handed the wire to the sheriff, who thanked him and slowly unfolded the yellow foolscap paper. He snorted when he read it, and got to his feet.
“Damn, I should’a knowed as much,” he said, a wry look on his face.
“What does it say, Monte?” Sally asked, also getting to her feet.
“Jed says the only new rim he’s put on in the last month was for the livery rental wagon.”
Louis snapped his fingers. “Of course. We should have known that Pearlie was right and that no one who lived around here would be a party to any action against Smoke. It had to be an outsider.”
“But Monte,” Sally asked, a puzzled look on her face. “Why would someone be so dumb as to come into town and rent a wagon to kidnap someone as well known as Smoke is?” She shook her head. “That would leave a trail pointing straight back to them as soon as we talked to the livery agent.”
“Sally,” Monte said, “when you’ve been a sheriff as long as I have, you’ll soon learn that most men who ride the owlhoot trail are as dumb as a post.” He chuckled as he settled his hat on his head. “Hell, if’n they was smart, they’d get a job as sheriff like me an’ get rich.”
They all laughed nervously as they hurried down the street toward the livery stable.
Fred Morgan shook his head when they asked him who had recently rented his wagon with the new iron rim on the wheels. “Can’t rightly say, Sheriff,” he drawled in his backwoods accent, a long piece of straw hanging from the corner of his mouth that bobbed up and down as he chewed the wad of tobacco stuck in his cheek.
Monte sighed. Sometimes, talking to Fred was like pulling teeth. It took a lot of effort, and the results were usually less than satisfying. “Why not, Fred?” he asked, trying to be patient.
Fred shrugged. “Why, ’cause nobody
Monte cocked his head and put his hands on his hips. “You mean someone took the wagon without paying you for it?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, why in hell didn’t you report it to me?” Monte asked, getting red in the face.
Morgan held up his hands to calm the sheriff. “’Cause it happens all the time, Sheriff. Lots of times folks will find they need a wagon in the middle of the night ’cause theirs broke down, so instead of waking me up, they just take one of mine. Heck-fire, they always bring ’em back in a day or two.”
Monte smirked. “I think this time your wagon is gone for good, Fred.”
“But who round here’d do something mean like that?” Fred asked in a whining voice.
“They probably weren’t from around here, Mr. Morgan,” Sally said, her voice sad.
As they walked slowly back to Longmont’s, she asked, “Monte, what do you think we ought to do now? That wagon with the new rim was our only clue as to who may have taken Smoke.”
Monte pursed his lips. “Well, there’s only four ways they could have gone, so I guess the best thing to do is send riders out along each of the trails leading from town. Sooner or later, they’ve got to come across those wagon tracks.”
“And until they do?” Sally asked.
“I’d suggest you go on back to the Sugarloaf and get packed up for a trip,” Monte said. “Soon as the men find out which way they’ve gone, we’ll get a posse together and go after them.”
Sally thought about this for a moment, and then she shook her head. “No, Monte, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
