“She was right about that,” Matt said. “Where are our horses?”
Elizabeth took hold of his arm.
“Come on, I’ll show you.”
The group hurried along the creek for a quarter of a mile, then Elizabeth led them to a brush corral where a number of horses milled around. It was dark away from the fire in front of Juan Pablo’s hogan, but Elizabeth had been here in the canyon for months and knew her way around, even when she had to navigate by starlight.
“Our horses still have the saddles on them, Matt,” Sam said, “but I don’t see yours.”
“That’s all right,” Matt told him. “I can ride bareback if it means getting out of here.” He paused. “We have to stop Juan Pablo, Sam. If he gets his hands on those rifles, innocent folks will die.”
“I know,” Sam agreed. “But I’m not sure where we’ll find the place the gang plans to deliver them.”
Stovepipe said, “I reckon if it was me, I’d head for the spot where they planned to turn ’em over to the Navajo the first time ... that bluff where you two boys got bushwhacked to start this fandango.”
Matt and Sam exchanged a glance and nodded to each other.
“It’s worth a try,” Sam said. “Let’s get mounted up. Elizabeth, you can take one of the saddled horses. I’ll ride bareback, like Matt.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” Sam told her with a grin. “Remember, I’m half-Cheyenne. I was riding without a saddle almost before I could walk.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Matt said.
The horses inside the corral were nervous, but Sam, Stovepipe, and Wilbur were adept at handling them. They moved the brush gate aside and led out the animals they wanted, and a moment later all five riders were mounted.
“We’ll have to get past the guards at the mouth of the canyon,” Sam said. “They’re not expecting trouble from in here—”
As if to give the lie to his words, shouts of alarm suddenly rang out, echoing back from the canyon walls. The two guards Matt had knocked out must have regained consciousness.
“Blast it!” Matt exclaimed. “I should’ve cut their throats, or at least gagged them!”
“I’m glad you didn’t kill them,” Elizabeth said. “Juan Pablo is leading them into trouble, but they’re not bad people at heart.”
Stovepipe said, “No offense, ma’am, but I reckon they’ll ventilate us if they get half a chance.”
“We’ll have to try not to give them a chance,” Sam said. He urged his horse into a gallop. “Let’s go!”
Chapter 34
Zack Jardine tossed back the glass of whiskey and thumped the empty onto the table.
“Angus should have been back by now,” he said with a dark scowl. “Something happened out there.”
Dave Snyder, Joe Hutto, and Doyle Hilliard were sitting at the table with Jardine. Hilliard, who was Braverman’s best friend, leaned forward and with a worried frown on his face asked, “You want me to take a ride out to that mesa, Zack? I can find out what’s goin’ on.”
Jardine considered the suggestion for a moment, then shook his head.
“No. The cattle don’t matter that much. We’re gonna get those rifles in the hands of the Navajo tonight, and by this time tomorrow, the war will be started and nothing can stop it.”
Hilliard, Snyder, and Hutto looked surprised. This was the first they had heard about delivering the rifles to the Indians tonight. They had to be wondering how the arrangements had been made, since Jardine had been right here in Flat Rock all day.
Jardine smiled faintly at that thought. He liked to keep a few of his cards close to the vest, and one of them was the fact that he had a partner in this enterprise, a partner none of the other men knew about.
That partner was the one who had ridden out and met with Juan Pablo earlier today, after Two Wolves had formed that unlikely alliance with the Devil’s Pitchfork crew.
When Jardine had heard about that, he had known that it was time to make their biggest move yet in this game. Being cautious was all well and good, but at some point decisive action was needed.
This was that point.
“Go down to the Mexican’s place and get the wagon ready,” Jardine went on. “Bring it to the alley behind the saloon, and we’ll go get the guns.”
His men didn’t know where the rifles were hidden. Only Jardine and his partner knew that, because they had unloaded the crates after the first attempt to deliver the rifles to the Navajo.
The time for secrecy was over, though.
“All right, boss,” Snyder said. “Do we get all the other fellas who are in town together?”
“That’s right. We’ll all ride out with the wagon.”
That was only seven or eight men. The other members of the gang were either wounded or out at the mesa with the rustled cattle.
But that ought to be enough, Jardine told himself. Nobody knew what was really going on here, so they couldn’t prepare for it.
The three men hurried out of the Buckingham Palace. Jardine poured himself another drink and leaned back in his chair to enjoy it. His gaze roamed across the room and lingered on the beautiful Lady Augusta Winslow, who
