'What do you mean, Rob? We got 'em cold. All we got to do is wait 'em out.'
Another voice was added. 'Yeah? But for how long?'
'That's right. Them two got good cover, and we can't get to them to finish this.'
'He's right 'bout that,' another called. 'It's all open twixt us and them.'
'Goddamn it, no names, you idgits!'
'Rob and Dick,' Frank muttered. 'Remember those names, Viv.'
'Forever,' she whispered.
There was more murmuring of words between the gunmen, again so faint that Frank and Viv could not make them out. They waited in the copse of trees.
Then there was nothing but the gentle sighing of the wind in the valley.
'Have they gone?' Viv asked.
'I don't know, honey. It may be they just want us to think they've left.'
'If wishes were horses...'
'What?'
'Nothing,' she said with a quiet laugh. 'Don't pay any attention to me. I'm babbling.'
'Babble on, Viv. I'm going to ease out of here and take a look around.'
She cut her suddenly alarm-filled eyes to him. 'Frank -- '
'Relax. I'm not going far, and I'm not going to take any chances. Take it easy, Viv. I'll be right back.'
'Promise?'
'Cross my heart. You want to spit in my palm?'
She smiled, and Frank could see her tension ease. 'Get out of here, you nut!'
Frank eased out of the trees and wormed his way down to and over the creekbank, then worked his way about fifty feet. Easing up behind a clump of weeds, he gave the rocks and ridges a good visual going-over. He could see nothing moving. His and Viv's horses had moved a few yards during the gunfire, but were now grazing calmly. His big horse was showing no signs of being alarmed.
Frank crawled over the creekbank and quickly got to his feet, running toward the horses. No shots boomed; no lead came howling in his direction. He led the horses over to the thick copse of trees.
'They're gone, Viv. Come on. I want to take a look at the ridges. I might find some sign that I can use.'
Frank found some brass from a .45-.70 and a .32-.20. But it was the butt-plate markings that caught and held his attention. They were strange looking.
'What's wrong, Frank?'
'The butt-plate on this rifle. It's the strangest I've ever seen.' He snapped his fingers. 'I know what it is. It loads through the buttstock. I'll bet you it's a bolt-action military rifle.'
'Are they rare?'
'They are out here.'
'And if you find a man in town who has one, it's a good bet he's one of the men who attacked us.'
'That's it, Viv. Come on, let's ride. It's a good hour back to town, and we're not taking the same trail back we used to get up here.'
Frank found the tracks of the men who'd attempted to kill them, and there were four horses. The hoofprints led straight toward town. Frank cut across country, and they made it back to town in just over an hour. Frank saw Vivian back to her house, where Jimmy was waiting on the porch.
Jimmy saw the dirt and grass stains on their clothing and asked, 'Trouble?'
Frank explained what had happened.
'I bet that's one of those Winchester-Hotchkiss so-called sportin' rifles,' Jimmy said. 'The army has some of them, but they're rare out here.'
'Keep your eyes open for one, Jimmy.'
'Will do.'
At the office, while Jerry made a fresh pot of coffee, Frank told him about the events of that afternoon.
'You think they were after you, or Mrs. Browning?'
'Both of us. And I'm getting damn tired of it.'
'You think the Pine and Vanbergen gangs were behind the ambush?'
Frank shook his head. 'I don't think so, Jerry. They want to kill me, yes. But I believe there are other forces working to kill both of us.'
'Who?'
Frank explained in as much depth as he knew about Viv's father and his deathbed desire to have him killed.
