teased.
“What the hell?” Logan asked. “Are you men drunk?”
“We ain’t all that drunk,” Cooter answered with a belching laugh.
Poke Terrell had given Logan one hundred and fifty dollars, telling him to find four men he could trust, who would work for thirty dollars apiece. Generously, he told Logan that he could keep thirty dollars for himself.
What Poke didn’t know was that Logan was able to find two men who would work for ten dollars apiece. That left Logan with a total bonus of one hundred thirty dollars. But now, as he looked at the two men he had hired, he was beginning to wonder whether he made a mistake. If they weren’t drunk yet, they were well on the way.
“This ain’t the kind of job you can do while you are drunk,” Logan said.
“Well now, you just hold on there, Mr. Sam Logan,” Cooter said. “You’re askin’ us to kill a couple of fellas, right? For no reason in particular, just kill ’em. If that ain’t reason enough to take a couple of drinks before you commence shootin’, then I don’t know what is.”
“They’re coming,” Logan said disgustedly. “Get up to the edge of the rim. As soon as they come into the canyon, open fire.”
The two men stood up then walked up to the edge of the canyon.
“Where are they?” Cooter asked.
“Damn it! Get down!” Logan said. “You may as well be holdin’ up a sign.”
“Oh, yeah,” Cooter said. “You’re prob’ly right.”
All three men lay on their stomachs, then crawled up to the rim of the canyon so they could see.
“I don’t see nothin’,” Mole said.
“There’s two of ’em, comin’ in a buckboard with a horse tied on to the back. The buckboard is just around the bend. Be ready, you’ll see it in a minute,” Logan replied.
What neither Logan, Cooter, or Mole knew was that five minutes earlier, Matt had seen Logan up on the rim. He wouldn’t have thought anything about it, but for two reasons. First was that the run in with the two men in the saloon back in American Falls last night told him that someone was trying to see to it that he didn’t do anything to help Katherine. And second, the man on the rim was obviously trying to avoid being seen.
As the buckboard made a curve around a bend it was, for the moment, obscured from view by anyone who might be up on top of the canyon wall. Matt halted the team, then set the brake.
“Stay here until I get back,” Matt said, crawling over the seat into the back of the buckboard, then stepping into the saddle.
“What is it? Where are you going?”
“There is someone up on the lip of the canyon who seems more than a little interested in us,” Matt replied. “I plan to go up and see what he wants.”
“Oh, my,” Gilmore said. “You know, I never realized that we might actually be in danger, just by riding out to Coventry. I—I don’t even have a gun.”
“You won’t be in any danger as long as you stay behind this promontory,” Matt said, as he rode away.
Matt didn’t have to ride too far back before he found a small creek coming down from the top of the canyon wall. The creek bed was much larger than the creek itself, apparently the result of spring runoffs. Any question he may have had as to whether the creek bed would lead all the way up to the top was answered when he saw the track of three horses. Fresh droppings on the trail told him that the pass had been used within the last hour or so.
Matt urged Spirit into a trot and, rather quickly, he reached the top. Dismounting, he tied Spirit off to a low growing juniper, then, pulling his pistol and walking quietly, he started out across the relatively flat top.
“Are you sure you seen ’em? I don’t think there’s anybody down there at all.”
“I told you, they are around there behind that point. Soon as the buckboard comes into view, start shootin’.”
“I need another drink.”
“You don’t need nothin’ of the sort. Just do what I tell you.”
“Who is this fella we’re supposed to be shootin’ at, anyway?”
“His name is Matt Jensen.”
“Matt Jensen? Are you loco? I don’t know much, but I’ve heard of Matt Jensen, and I know he’s someone you don’t want to mess with.”
“You took the money, now just do what I told you to do. Keep lookin’.”
“Are you boys looking for me?” Matt asked, stepping up behind them.
“What the hell?” Cooter shouted. “Where did you come from?”
“Stand up,” Matt ordered.
The three men did as they were directed.
“Now, this is what I want you to do. I want you to toss your guns over the edge.”
“Mister, I ain’t tossin’ my gun over the edge of this here canyon for nobody,” Logan said.
Matt fired at him and a little mist of red flew up from his earlobe. Crying out in pain, he slapped his hand up to his ear, then pulled away a palm full of blood.
