It wasn’t a pretty expression.
“What’s going on here?” Matt demanded. He looked over his shoulder at the headman. “Caballo Rojo—”
“I have already spoken to Caballo Rojo,” Juan Pablo broke in. “I have told him how you plan to go to the settlement and lead the white men back here so they can attack us and wipe out all of our people.”
“That’s not true!” Elizabeth cried. “Caballo Rojo, you must believe me. I’ve never done anything except try to help your people, and Mr. Bodine would never betray you after you helped him the way you did.”
“Lies, all lies,” Juan Pablo said with the calm self-assurance of a man who knows that he has already won. “Like all the other whites, you seek only the destruction of the Dine. But your treachery will bring about only your own destruction.”
He lifted the rifle.
“No, you will never leave this canyon ... alive.”
Chapter 28
The trail of the rustled cattle continued to angle toward the canyon where the members of Caballo Rojo’s clan made their home. Sam grew more worried as he saw that.
Was it possible that the Navajo really
Sam didn’t want to believe that was true, but he couldn’t deny the evidence of his own eyes ... especially when the line of cliffs where the canyon was located came into view.
As he and the other riders came closer, however, the tracks began to turn more to the north. Relief went through Sam as he realized that the trail was going to lead past the entrance to the Navajo canyon.
This was the closest he had been to the place since leaving several days earlier, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Matt was doing. It would be easy enough to ride over there and see. It wouldn’t take long.
That is, it would have been easy if he and Stovepipe and Wilbur weren’t prisoners of the Devil’s Pitchfork crew.
As it was, Sam knew that Pete Lowry would be only too happy to gun them down if it looked like they were trying to escape, and so would some of the other men.
He wasn’t sure he wanted Boyd and his men to know those Navajo hogans were hidden in the canyon, anyway. That might cause trouble for Caballo Rojo and his people in the future.
So as the cliffs fell behind them, Sam felt mingled relief and worry. Relief that the trail of the stolen cattle hadn’t led straight to the Navajo, and worry about Matt.
He wasn’t sure why that had started nagging at him, but the bond that existed between the blood brothers sometimes enabled them to sense when the other one was in trouble.
Sam hoped that wasn’t the case now.
“That looks like hellacious country ahead of us,” John Henry Boyd commented. “I don’t reckon I’ve ever been up this far before. Can’t be far to the Sweetwater Hills.” He pointed to a range of low but rugged peaks with sides deeply seamed by canyons and crevices. “That must be them.”
Pete Lowry said nervously, “Boss, I’ve heard that those hills are haunted.”
It struck Sam as odd that such a sentiment would be expressed by the hard-nosed segundo. Even the toughest hombre could be touched by superstition, though.
A harsh laugh came from Boyd.
“Ghosts didn’t steal those cattle or ventilate those two boys, Pete. If they’re in those hills, the varmints who took ’em there are flesh and blood, and bullets will put holes in ’em. We’re not turning back now.”
“Never said anything about turnin’ back,” Lowry responded in surly tones. “Just tellin’ you what I’ve heard, that’s all.”
The trail grew dim, and once again Sam and Stovepipe had to search for it. This time it was the tall, lanky cowboy who found the tracks they were looking for.
There was no doubt now that they were headed straight for the Sweetwater Hills.
“Looks like there’s a heap of places to hide in those badlands,” Stovepipe said.
“Then it’s a good thing we’ve got you with us,” Lowry said. “Since you’re one of the gang, you can tell us how to find the rest of your bunch.”
Wilbur said, “I thought it was the Navajo who were responsible for what happened. Now you’re sayin’ it’s a gang of white outlaws? Sort of changin’ your tune, ain’t you, Lowry?”
Lowry snarled at him.
“Give me five minutes with a Bowie knife and I’d get the truth outta you, you short-growed little runt.”
Wilbur’s face flushed with anger as he said, “Blast it, I’m not that short! It just looks like it because I hang around with this beanpole here.”
He jerked a thumb at the grinning Stovepipe.
“Beanpole, eh? I ain’t sure I like that name. I’m just gettin’ used to Stovepipe.”
“Pipe down, all three of you,” Boyd warned. “Two Wolves, what do you think?”
“Your cattle are probably stashed in some canyon up there in the hills, all right,” Sam said. “And it won’t be easy to find.”
“You don’t know anything about it?”
Sam shook his head.
