The camp looked like a field hospital. Dick Dorman and von Hausen were stretched out side by side. Maria was off to one side, badly shaken and bruised up from her trips to the creek. Utah Red had hurt his leg on the way down the slope and was bitching and moaning. Slick Finger Bob had a cut on his face and a knot on one knee. Sandy was still addled and acting goofy from his head impacting against a rock. One Eye had a egg-sized lump on his noggin from Smoke’s thrown rock.
Marlene finally got von Hausen awake and was pouring hot soup down his throat. Roy Drum had retrieved von Hausen’s boots and pants, falling into the creek himself. The pith helmet was ruined, cracked wide open.
Gunter knelt down beside von Hausen. “Two dead,” he told him. “Ed Clay’s missing. Several of the men are injured, but not seriously.”
Von Hausen coughed up creek water. “The spirit of the men?” he questioned.
“As long as we keep paying them, they’ll continue.”
“We’ll continue,” von Hausen said. “As long as he has Andrea, we really have no choice, now, do we?”
Cat Brown rode back in and swung down. “I found Jensen’s tracks. He’s headin’ straight north. The woman’s still with him.”
“And leaving tracks a fool could follow,” von Hausen said, not putting it as a question.
“That’s right, boss.”
“We’ll rest here and push on at first light.”
Marlene glanced at him. There was a grimness in his voice that she had never heard before. She wondered what it meant.
“When are you going to turn me loose?” Andrea asked.
Supper was over, she had the rope around her waist, the knots so tight she had broken off her nails trying to loosen them—to no avail.
“When the hunt is over,” Smoke told her.
“You mean, after you’ve killed them all.”
“I didn’t kill that fellow this morning, now, did I?”
“I could talk to Frederick. I’m sure he would cease immediately once he sees I am safe and unhurt.”
“Frederick is mine,” Smoke told her. “I’m going to kick his face in.”
“You!” she said mockingly. “Frederick will destroy you. He is a skilled pugilist.”
“We’ll see.”
“I’ve seen him fight two men at once and whip them both.”
“Good for him. In a ring?”
“Certainly. One of Frederick’s opponents would tire and the other would come in.”
“Rules to it, hey?”
“But of course.”
“I’ll have to say a little prayer before bed tonight that when we do lock horns, Frederick doesn’t beat me up too bad.”
“Now you’re being sarcastic.”
“Go to sleep, your ladyship. Tomorrow is going to be very exciting.”
Sandy Beecher heard a rustling behind him. He left the saddle and stared hard at the thick brush. The mid-morning was cloudy and cool, with the skies looking like rain. The bushes did not move again.
For the first time he noticed the thin vine that stretched across the trail. From ground level, he could see that it was attached to the bush that had moved. Sandy got to thinking on that. Now if the vine was attached to the bush, that meant that whoever jerked on it was...
“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “Behind me.”
“That’s right,” Smoke whispered. “You’re a mighty young man to die.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You might. That’s up to you.”
“The others are fanned out all over this mountain, lookin’ for you. You let me get back on my horse, and I’m gone. That’s a promise.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“ ’Cause I’m tellin’ you the truth. Where’s Ed Clay?”
“If he’s not dead on the trail, he told me he was heading back to Nebraska.”
“That’s him. Me and him was pards. You let me go and you’ll never see me no more, Mister Jensen. Never.”
“Tell me about the others.”
“They’re bad ones. They got big money in their eyes. I got me a couple hundred dollars from that Baron or whatever he is, and that’s enough to get me back to Missouri.”
“That your home state?”
“Sure is! About thirty miles east of Springfield.”
