couple of hostages. Leaving behind the gold in the cabin must have been a bitter pill to swallow, but it was better than staying and getting shot.
Bo wondered if a posse had followed the outlaws from Deadwood. If it had, there was a chance he and Scratch could catch the Devils between them and the townsmen.
They reached the mouth of the canyon, where the trail swung to the left, away from Deadwood and deeper into the rugged hills. They hadn’t run into a posse along the way, so the possibility of closing the jaws of a trap on the Devils was gone.
He and Scratch would continue the pursuit anyway, Bo thought. The Texans had faced long odds before and managed to survive.
As best he’d been able to count in the heat of battle, seven of the outlaws had escaped. That would take some whittling down, Bo told himself, but he and Scratch could do it. It might have been better if they had let Gustaffson come along, maybe with a couple of troopers. The other cavalrymen could have been left to guard the gold in the cabin. But Bo had never been one for second-guessing himself, so he shoved those thoughts aside.
The horses were starting to flag a little after the hard run down the canyon. Bo and Scratch reined them back to a walk. It was frustrating, knowing that the outlaws might be opening up a larger lead on them, but it would be even more disastrous if they ran their horses into the ground. A man who galloped his mount until it died underneath him usually stood a good chance of winding up dead himself.
“Them Devils have been around here for a while,” Scratch said. “They probably know this part of the country better than we do right now.”
Bo nodded. “More than likely. But with this snow on the ground, they’ll have a hard time giving us the slip. They probably know that, too, so we’d better be on the lookout for an ambush.”
The trail rose steadily, climbing toward a rugged-looking, snow-covered mountain several miles away. There would be plenty of places for the outlaws to hide in the rough country around it. If they managed to give Bo and Scratch the slip, it might take another cavalry patrol weeks of searching to find any trace of them . . . and by that time, what was left of the gang would be long gone, taking the hostages with them.
Either that, or they would leave the women behind, more likely dead than alive, Bo thought grimly. The best chance of saving Sue Beth and Martha was to catch up to the outlaws today. Every minute the women spent as prisoners increased the odds against them.
Both Texans checked their back trail from time to time, out of habit. Scratch glanced back now and said, “Riders comin’ up fast behind us, Bo.”
Bo reined in and turned to look. He saw the men Scratch had spotted. Half a dozen of them came across the snow-covered landscape, pushing their horses hard so that the powdery white stuff flew up around the animals’ hooves.
“One of ’em’s wearin’ a uniform,” Scratch said. “Bet a dollar to a doughnut that’s Olaf.”
“No bet,” Bo said. “But who are the others?”
There was only one reasonable answer to that, and as the riders came closer, Bo saw that his hunch was right. He recognized the lean, hawk-faced figure of Sheriff Henry Manning and knew the lawman was leading a small posse from Deadwood.
The identities of a couple of the other men were surprising, though. Reese Bardwell and Phillip Ramsey were riding with the sheriff. Bo stiffened at the sight of the big mining engineer. Bardwell’s brother was one of the men they were pursuing. Did Bardwell know that?
“Son of a gun,” Scratch said. “The old-timer’s with ’em.”
Bo nodded, having also recognized Chloride Coleman. The final member of the posse was Andrew Keefer, the superintendent of the Golden Queen mine.
The Texans waited while the posse caught up to them. As the riders reined in, Olaf Gustaffson said, “I told you I was coming with you.”
“Where’s the rest of the patrol?” Bo asked.
“I left them at the hideout. I lost three men in that fight, and a couple of the others were wounded. I figured there needed to be two healthy men guarding that gold, at least.”
Bo nodded. “You’re right. Have you filled in the sheriff on what happened?”
“The sergeant told me about the fight with the Devils,” Manning answered before Gustaffson could say anything. “We ran into him at the mouth of that canyon where the hideout is located. We’ll go back there and pick up the gold once we’ve rescued the women and dealt with the Devils.”
“You sound mighty sure about that, Sheriff.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Manning demanded. “From what Sergeant Gustaffson tells me, the odds are about even.”
“Yeah, but there’s something you don’t know.” Before any of them knew what was happening, Bo drew his Colt and leveled it at Reese Bardwell. “You’ve got one of the Devils riding with you.”
CHAPTER 24
Bardwell stared at Bo in apparent shock. For a moment he didn’t seem able to speak. When he got that ability back, he burst out angrily, “What in blazes are you talkin’ about? By God, Creel, I’m gettin’ tired of you pointin’ a gun at me!”
Coolly, Bo said, “You don’t have much room to complain, considering that just a little while ago, your brother and his men were doing their best to kill us. They did kill three of those troopers, and we don’t know yet if the women are still all right.”
“My brother!” Bardwell repeated. “You’re crazy. My brother’s dead. He was killed in a shootout with marshals down in Kansas.”
