on that blasted half-breed and to finish him off if they got the chance.
Now, from the way they were hurrying, Jardine figured that they had fouled up again some way.
He lifted a hand to catch their attention as they started to ride past in the street. Both men reined in sharply, sawing the bits in cruel fashion.
“What the hell’s going on now?” Jardine demanded.
“It’s that redskin,” Braverman replied, not surprisingly. “He’s gone out to the Devil’s Pitchfork.”
Jardine wasn’t expecting to hear that. As his eyes widened, he said, “Why in blazes would he do that, after the run-in he had with Lowry and that bunch the other day?”
Hilliard said, “It looked to us like he was tryin’ to find the trail of those cows that got run off a couple nights ago.”
At that news, Jardine felt like spewing a string of vile curses. Realizing that wouldn’t do any good, he said, “I hope you took care of him.”
Braverman grimaced and looked uncomfortable as he shifted in the saddle.
“We tried, Zack, we really did.”
“But?” Jardine said ominously.
“But those two drifters who sided him in that saloon brawl showed up and came mighty close to partin’ our hair with lead. We had to get out of there while we still could.”
Jardine glanced around to make sure no one else was within earshot, then said, “You stupid sons of bitches. Now not only Two Wolves is out there poking around where he doesn’t belong, but so are those two cowboys. I’ve got a bad feeling about them.”
“It gets worse, boss,” Hilliard added with a shake of his head. “We were watchin’ from a distance, and we saw Boyd and his crew come up and grab the redskin and the other two.”
“They didn’t kill Two Wolves and his friends?”
That was probably too much good luck to hope for, Jardine thought.
Hilliard confirmed that hunch by saying, “No, they disarmed the three of ’em but didn’t hurt them as far as we could tell. Then the whole bunch rode off to the northwest, the same direction those boys took the cows.”
Jardine took a deep breath and tried to reassure himself that everything would be all right.
“We figured all along that Boyd and his men would try to trail the herd,” he said. “They won’t be able to find it.”
“That’s what that Injun claimed,” Braverman said. “But we don’t know that for sure.”
“Who knows those godforsaken canyons better than a Navajo?” Jardine asked.
“But Boyd’s got Two Wolves with him now. He’s Cheyenne, but maybe he can track as well as a Navajo can.”
Jardine took off his hat and ran his fingers through his thick black hair. The whole deal had seemed so simple at first ...
All they had to do was steal those rifles before the guns made it to Fort Defiance, deliver them to the hotheads among the Navajo who wanted war with the whites, stir up the settlers by rustling a few cattle and killing a couple of punchers, and then sit back and let nature take its course.
When the fighting was all over, the redskins would be herded out of the Four Corners, and Jardine would be ready to swoop in and take over.
He scowled at Braverman and Hilliard as he recalled that if they hadn’t been so trigger-happy a week earlier, maybe none of the problems that currently plagued him would have cropped up. That incident had fouled up the delivery of the rifles, and the plan hadn’t recovered yet from having that kink thrown into it.
Now this unlikely alliance between Two Wolves, those two mysterious cowboys, and the crew from the Devil’s Pitchfork threatened to make things even worse.
Jardine sighed and settled his hat back on his head.
“There’s only one thing we can do about it now,” he said. “Angus, get a fresh horse and ride for the place where the cattle are being held as fast as you can. Warn the boys watching them that trouble may be on the way.”
“You really think I can get there before Boyd and the others do, boss?”
“I don’t know, but you can damned well try,” Jardine snapped. “There’s a good chance, because you know where you’re going and they don’t. Now get a move on.”
“You want me to go with Angus, Zack?” Hilliard asked.
Jardine shook his head.
“He’s a lot lighter than you. On a fresh horse he can move pretty fast.” He scowled at Braverman. “Didn’t you hear me? Go!”
Braverman nodded and pulled his horse around.
“You bet!”
He headed for the livery stable to change mounts.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out, boss,” Hilliard said. “It’s like that damned Injun’s got some sort of redskin spirits lookin’ out for him! Every time we think we’re about to ventilate him, he gets out of it somehow.”
