But despite that, the situation nagged at him. He was convinced the theory they had come up with was correct: The smugglers had stolen some Gatling guns, probably from the U.S. Army, and brought them north into Canada to sell to rebellious Metis.
The question remained, what were the Metis going to do with them?
The answer couldn’t be anything good. The more Frank thought about, the more his gut told him that innocent people would die if those Gatlings fell into the wrong hands.
His instincts told him he ought to look into this, but did he have any right to drag Salty and Meg into what was potentially a very dangerous mess?
He pondered on this while they ate their breakfast and then tended to the horses. After the second burst of shooting, the Gatling guns were silent, which meant the deal had been concluded, Frank thought. In the end, he decided that he didn’t have any right to ask his companions to risk their lives.
Besides, he didn’t know for sure that what was going on in this stretch of mountains had anything to do with a budding rebellion by the Metis.
There were practical matters to consider, too, and Frank addressed those after breakfast.
“I think we ought to hole up here for the day like we planned,” he said. “That’ll give those folks, whoever they are and whatever they’re up to, time to move on out of these parts.”
“You’re not gonna go lookin’ for ‘em?” Salty asked.
Frank shook his head. “I reckon not. There’s no reason for us to get mixed up in their business.”
Salty frowned as he raked his fingers through his beard. “Well, I, uh, been thinkin’ about that, Frank. You know I used to do some range detectin’, and I helped out the law more’n once, and it sorta rubs me the wrong way to stand aside when there’s somethin’ shady goin’ on.”
“We don’t know that there is,” Frank pointed out.
“No, but there’s one thing you can be dang sure about…. Anybody who wants to get his hands on one o’ them devil guns is plannin’ on doin’ a whole heap of killin’.”
That was exactly the thought that had gone through Frank’s mind earlier.
Meg spoke up, saying, “I think Salty’s right, Frank. Now that I’ve thought about it, I’m not sure we ought to just ride away from here. What if those people are planning to use those guns to ambush a bunch of Mounties or even attack a town full of innocent people?”
“It’s not our job to stop them,” Frank said, playing devil’s advocate even though he leaned toward agreeing with both of his friends.
“Maybe not,” Salty said, “but when a fella sees somethin’ wrong happenin’, sometimes he’s got to step in.”
“Or she,” Meg added.
Frank didn’t argue any more. Instead he grinned and said, “I’m glad you two feel that way. I don’t reckon we can turn our backs on this, either. But we’ve got to be smart about what we do next. I think the two of you should stay here while I go take a look around. If I can find the bunch that has the guns now, we can follow them and try to find out what their plan is.”
“You better be careful, Frank,” Salty advised. “I don’t figure they’d take kindly to bein’ spied on. You saw how quick they was to grab me an’ Meg yesterday, and they’re gonna be even proddier now that you killed one of ‘em.”
“I plan on being careful,” Frank assured him. “Let’s get one of those horses saddled up.”
When he had the animal ready to ride, he took hold of the reins and led the horse toward the mouth of the canyon. Salty and Meg came along with him.
“The two of you lie low and stay alert,” Frank said. “I’ll be back later.”
“It’s a shame we can’t do nothin’ about them smugglers,” Salty said. “I reckon it’s better if we follow the guns, though.”
Frank nodded. “There’s nothing we can do about the guns being stolen. That’s already happened. But maybe we can stop them from being used to slaughter innocent folks.”
He pushed some of the brush far enough aside to lead the horse through the gap he created. When he was gone, Salty and Meg could pull the brush back into place and make sure the canyon mouth was concealed again.
Frank had just stepped out into the open when the morning erupted in noise. The terrible hammering of shots filled the air, and a veritable storm of lead pelted around him.
Chapter 16
Earlier that morning, just as the sun was about to creep up over the horizon to the east, Joseph Marat had opened his eyes and found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol.
He started to jerk upright and reach for the revolver on his hip or the rifle lying on the ground beside him, but the gun muzzle suddenly pressed hard against his head and a gravelly voice ordered, “Don’t try it, boy. I don’t want to blow your brains out, but I will if I have to.” The man holding the gun chuckled. “Reckon I can always do business with your sister, if you’re not around anymore.”
“Don’t …” Joseph had to stop and swallow hard before he could go on. “Don’t shoot,” he said. “I won’t give you any trouble.”
“Didn’t think so.” The man lifted the gun away from Joseph’s forehead and straightened from where he had crouched beside the sleeping man.
