Sam dashed for the doorway. He saw Stovepipe coming around the hogan in a hurry, too, as the range detective responded to Elizabeth’s summons.
Holding his Colt ready, Sam stepped into the dwelling’s shadowy interior.
“I’m over here, tied up,” Elizabeth went on. “Get me loose, Sam, please.”
Sam could make out Juan Pablo’s crumpled form lying on the ground. The man’s wife stood over him, a chunk of firewood in her hand. Sam realized that the woman had clouted Juan Pablo with the wood and knocked him out.
Stooping, Sam took hold of the Springfield rifle that lay next to Juan Pablo’s unconscious form and handed the weapon to Stovepipe, who had followed him into the hogan.
Then he holstered his Colt and pulled the Bowie knife from its sheath.
“Josefina saved me again,” Elizabeth said as Sam knelt next to her to cut the bonds around her wrists. “Of course, she did it out of jealousy, not any great affection for me. In fact, I think she’d be pleased if I left the canyon and never came back.”
“Which is exactly what you’re going to do,” Sam said.
Elizabeth opened her mouth as if she were going to argue with him, but then she shrugged instead.
“You’re right,” she said. “I can’t stay here anymore. Maybe someone else can help educate these people. They deserve it.”
“What happened to the men who were with Juan Pablo?” Sam asked as the cut ropes fell away from Elizabeth’s wrists. She began massaging her hands to get the blood flowing again.
“They had a big argument outside after Juan Pablo forced me in here and tied me up,” she said. “I couldn’t follow all of it, but I’m pretty sure the other men told him they didn’t want anything more to do with his uprising. He let them down when they didn’t get the rifles.” Elizabeth paused. “I guess you and the others were responsible for that.”
Sam nodded as he helped her to her feet.
“That’s right. Matt and Wilbur are standing guard over the rifles now. We need to get back to them and head on to Flat Rock as soon as possible, to make sure the gang behind all this doesn’t try anything else.”
Elizabeth looked down at Juan Pablo.
“What are you going to do about him?”
“I’m going to leave him for Caballo Rojo to deal with,” Sam said. “And his wife. I’ve got a hunch she’s not going to put up with much more foolishness from him.”
“It’s true that the women wield a great deal of power in Navajo society. And Caballo Rojo is still the headman of this clan. I think he can keep Juan Pablo in line now that all the other men have abandoned his cause.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t think he’s truly a bad man. He just has a hard time getting used to life the way it really is.”
“Reckon everybody’s that way sometimes,” Stovepipe said.
Elizabeth started to hug Juan Pablo’s wife, but the woman turned away with her face as stoic as ever.
“Thank you anyway,” Elizabeth told her. “Thank you for everything. Gracias.”
The woman relented in her stiffness enough to give her a curt nod.
Sam, Stovepipe, and Elizabeth stepped outside. Sam stiffened as he saw Caballo Rojo standing there with a grim look on his face.
The headman leveled an arm toward the canyon mouth.
“Go,” he said simply.
“That’s where we’re headed,” Sam said. “You won’t see us again after this, Caballo Rojo.”
The Navajo looked like that would be just fine with him.
Chapter 37
The more Matt thought about it, the more he knew that he had to get to Flat Rock. He couldn’t afford to wait for Sam and Stovepipe to return. The ringleader of that gang was going to try something else.
“I’m gonna take one of those horses from the wagon team and head for town,” he told Wilbur. “You can stay here and keep an eye on those rifles.”
“You’re loco,” Wilbur responded heatedly. “Stovepipe and Two Wolves told us to stay here.”
“Once it gets light, you can fort up in these rocks and keep anybody who comes along away from the guns,” Matt argued. “My gut tells me the varmint behind all this isn’t finished yet.”
“Yeah, well, my gut tells me the same thing, and you’re hurt worse’n I am. If anybody goes, it ought to be me.”
“No offense, Wilbur, but you’re not exactly a gunfighter.”
Wilbur glared at him.
“You ever notice, when somebody says ‘no offense,’ they’re about to say somethin’ damned offensive?”
Matt was already unhitching one of the horses. He didn’t answer.
“Besides, you never even been to Flat Rock,” Wilbur went on. “You don’t even know how to get there.”
“Tell me the general direction. I can find it.”
“Why should I?”
