After his meager meal, Matt lay flat on his stomach, then looked through his binoculars at the activity below. He had known that he would find Teasdale and Reed and a few of his cowboys here, but he was a little surprised by how many there were.
That isn’t what surprised him the most, though. What surprised him the most was seeing Myron Morrison, Frewen’s trusted foreman, standing side by side with Teasdale and Reed, pointing to various places on the ranch.
“Why, you traitorous son of a bitch,” Matt said under his breath.
Then he smiled. Morrison was pointing out every defensive position to Teasdale, and in so doing, was pointing them out to Matt as well.
Though he was surprised at the number of defenders, he wasn’t surprised by the preparations they had made for him. If Morrison laid them out, they had to be good. Matt knew of Morrison’s military background.
Matt was able to make a careful survey of every defensive position that had been established. There were four rifle pits just inside the main gate, each pit containing two men, with each man in the pits having an overlapping field of fire. The overlapping field of fire meant that there was no way to approach from the front without coming under fire from more than one of the defenders.
In addition to the rifle pits, Matt picked five more strategic positions. There was a man on the roof of the machine shed, one on top of the barn, and another one in the hayloft. There was also a man on top of the silo.
Morrison and Reed didn’t appear to have any specific defensive positions, but were free to move about as needed. Teasdale went back into the house and would probably stay there when the shooting started. He didn’t know whether Mrs. Teasdale was in the house or not, but he assumed that she was, and he didn’t want to hurt her. Morrison’s military acumen was apparent in the way he had deployed the defenses. He could stop an army in its tracks.
Matt smiled. But he wasn’t an army, he was one man. And he was pretty sure that one man, sneaking through the cracks, could get through. At least, he was gambling on that.
As the sun dipped lower in the west, Matt decided to try and improve his position. There was another protected spot off to his left, a little ridge line that protruded, like a finger, pointing right at the big house. The end of the finger was a hundred yards closer to the house than he was now, and from there Matt would be able to see more clearly what was going on. But if he was going to do it he would have to do it now, before it got too dark to see. Reaching that vantage point, however, meant he would have to cross an exposed area that was about fifty yards wide.
Matt moved back down off the rock and walked over to his horse. Since he had gotten into position, his horse had enjoyed a fairly relaxed afternoon cropping grass, drinking water, and depositing horse apples. Matt figured Spirit should be well rested now, and that was good, because he was going to call upon him to run the gauntlet.
“You ready, Spirit?” Matt asked, patting the horse on its neck. “I hope so, because when we go, you’re going to have to give me all you’ve got.”
Gripping his pistol, Matt put his foot in the stirrup and lifted himself up. But he didn’t get in the saddle. Instead, he remained bent over, hidden behind his horse. Once he had his balance and a good hold, he urged the animal across the open area. Spirit broke out into the clearing at a full gallop.
“Here he comes!” someone shouted.
“What do you mean? That’s just a horse, there ain’t nobody ridin’ it!”
“The hell there ain’t! There the son of a bitch is, hangin’ on to the other side!” someone else yelled.
Knowing now that he had been spotted, Matt raised up and fired just across the saddle.
The men in the rifle pits, the one on the roof of the machine shed, and the one on top of the silo began shooting, but Spirit was at full gallop, and Matt was mostly out of sight. Also his appearance had been sudden and unexpected, so no one was shooting accurately. Even after Matt had made it all the way across and was completely out of their line of fire, they kept up their shooting until, finally, Morrison shouted at them to stop.
“Stop, stop! What the hell are you shooting at? Cease fire! Quit shooting! You’re just wasting ammunition!”
The firing fell silent.
“Where’d he go?”
“Was he hit?”
“Does anyone see him?”
“How about everyone just keep your mouth shut and your eyes open!” Morrison ordered.
Matt was in a good, secure position now. No one could take a shot at him without exposing themselves, and he was close enough to observe everything. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to improve his position until after it got dark. But with the sun already a blood-red disk low on the western horizon, darkness wasn’t too far away.
Before it was too dark to see, Matt made a careful examination of the big house. Once, he saw Teasdale peering anxiously through the downstairs window.
It was about an hour after dark when Matt got an unexpected break. A few of Teasdale’s men who had spent the day searching the range for him were now coming back. Not realizing there were riding into any danger, they continued on into the compound without identifying themselves. The men who were nearest the front gate were already so nervous that they were jumping at every shadow. They had completely forgotten about those who were out on the range and were totally surprised to see a large body of men ride up on them.
“Son of a bitch! Look at that!” one of the men shouted. “What the hell? Nobody said nothin’ about Jensen havin’ a whole army with him!”
A rifle shot rang out from one of the pits, and it was returned by the approaching horsemen, who thought they were being fired at by Matt Jensen. Their return shot was answered by another and by another still, until soon the entire valley was alive with the lightning of muzzle flashes, and the thunder of rifle and pistol fire.
Matt realized at once what was happening, and he decided to take advantage of the opportunity that had just
