Bo and Scratch exchanged a glance. “I reckon we’re still goin’ after the Devils,” Scratch said.
Bo nodded. “That’s right. They have even more to pay for now.”
“Our orders were to find those outlaws and deal with them,” Gustaffson said with a scowl.
“The lieutenant’s dead, and so are most of your troop.”
“That doesn’t change the orders,” Gustaffson said. “I’m in command now, and I say we’re going after them. Some of them were killed, too. The odds ought to be close to even.”
The sergeant had a point. Over the past week, the Deadwood Devils had been dealt considerable damage. If the remainder of the cavalry patrol could catch up to the gang now, they might be able to put the Devils out of commission permanently.
“All right,” Bo said, “but if we’re going after them, we can’t waste any time. Your men might be able to recover some of the bodies and give them proper burials if they stay here, but they probably wouldn’t be able to catch up to the Devils.”
Gustaffson heaved a sigh and nodded. “I know. And as much as I hate to leave the bodies, we don’t have any choice in the matter. I’ll tell the men to abandon the search and mount up.”
While Gustaffson was doing that, Bo and Scratch retrieved their horses. Five minutes later, they rode up the canyon at the head of a small column that included Sergeant Gustaffson and seven of the cavalry troopers. Ten men in all, counting the Texans. The Devils couldn’t number much more than that after all the men they had lost in recent days.
Quietly, Scratch said to Bo, “We may have another problem that ain’t been talked about yet. What if this canyon’s a dead end? We can’t go back the other way. It’d take a week to dig out enough of that rock slide for the horses to get through.”
Bo nodded. “I know. We’ll just have to hope there’s a way out at the other end.”
They followed the canyon on its twisting path into the hills. Bo kept an eye out for a place where the walls were gentle enough for horses to make it. Eventually the canyon petered out in a long slope where an avalanche had taken place sometime in the past. The ground was loose rock, and Bo could tell by looking that it would be easy to trigger another slide. But they had no choice except to try to get out of the canyon this way.
“Have your men dismount,” he told Gustaffson. “We’ll take it slow and easy, one at a time, leading the horses. Everybody back off while I go first.”
Bo picked his way up the slope, talking quietly and calmly to his horse as he did so to keep the animal from spooking. The climb was actually an easy one, only about a hundred yards and not very steep, but it took several nerve-racking minutes anyway before Bo finally reached the top. He had recovered his hat and coat earlier, so now he took off the black Stetson and waved it over his head to let Scratch know he had made it safely to the top. Scratch started up next.
It took most of the rest of the afternoon, but Gustaffson and the other survivors from the patrol were able to climb out of the canyon without any mishaps. When they were all up, Bo said, “We’ll backtrack now and pick up the Devils’ trail at the place where they started that avalanche.”
Gustaffson looked at the sky. “We’re going to run out of light,” he said. “I don’t like the look of those clouds, either. I think they’ve got snow in them.”
Scratch chuckled. “You sound like old Chloride, Sarge. But I got a hunch you’re right.”
Bo said, “You won’t have any trouble following the canyon from up here, Olaf. Scratch and I will go ahead and try to pick up the trail. We’ll leave markers for you to follow us.”
Gustaffson looked like he was going to argue, but then he shrugged and said, “I hate to split up such a small force, but you two seem to know what you’re doing. We won’t be far behind you.”
The Texans lifted a hand in farewell and then galloped ahead of the patrol. In the fading light, it wasn’t long before the troopers were out of sight behind them.
It was only a few minutes later when Bo felt the first snowflake plant a cold kiss on his face.
CHAPTER 20
The snow was light and intermittent at first, but it began to fall thicker and faster as Bo and Scratch reached the spot where the avalanche had taken place. Scratch dismounted long enough to retrieve his lasso, which he coiled and fastened to his saddle again. While he was doing that, Bo located the place where the Devils had left their horses during the ambush. The temperature was below freezing and the snow was starting to stick, resulting in a dusting of white on the piles of horse droppings.
“We won’t be able to follow their trail once the snow starts to pile up,” Scratch said.
“I know. It’s going to be dark soon, too.”
Scratch sighed. “You reckon we ought to just wait here for Gustaffson and those troopers and make camp for the night?”
Bo thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “No, let’s give it a try,” he said. “One thing about the snow, it’ll make it easier for Olaf and the others to follow us. They’ll be able to see our tracks.”
“Yeah, I reckon. But where are we goin’?”
“I’ve been thinking . . . Lieutenant Holbrook might’ve been onto something. The Devils’ hideout wasn’t up this canyon, but it could be hidden in one of the others. That would be a good place. It’s isolated, and there aren’t any mines up here this high.”
“You figure we should check the other canyons?”
“It’s a place to start,” Bo said.
They rode through the snow, which whipped up in swirls around them. Cutting across the ridge, they came to
