“She probably wishes she was in a parlor somewhere right now, instead of being Palmer’s prisoner.”
“You’re not helping matters, Reb,” Frank said flatly.
“Maybe not. But I can’t help worryin’ about her.”
“Neither can I … and I’ve known her a lot longer than you have.”
“You and her … I mean, the two of you ain’t … you’re not—”
“Meg and I are friends,” Frank said, not wanting to sit there and listen to the young man stumble around what he was trying to say. “Good friends, but that’s all.”
“That’s kind of what I figured.” Reb sighed. “Guess I’d better get some shut-eye.”
“That’d be a good idea,” Frank said.
After a quiet, peaceful night, they were up again at first light in the morning. From the pained way Salty was hobbling around, Frank didn’t know how far he would be able to go today. His own feet were in pretty bad shape, and Reb’s probably were, too.
Salty tottered across the campsite and sank down on a log. “You’re gonna have to leave me here today, Frank,” he said. “I can’t go on.”
“Salty, I—”
“Damn it, listen to me. You owe it to Meg. You already wasted enough time takin’ it easy on me yesterday. You got to go after her as fast as you can now.”
Reb said, “That’s not gonna be very fast. I’m not walkin’ too good myself today.”
Frank came to his feet. “Blast it, I’m not giving up, and neither are you two. Salty, we’ll rig a travois and pull you.”
“A travois? Frank, you’ve gone plumb loco—”
Frank held up a hand to stop Salty’s argument.
“Blast it, I ain’t gonna shut up—”
“Listen,” Frank said.
Hoofbeats sounded through the early morning air. There were quite a few horses, Frank judged.
And they were coming closer, too.
Chapter 29
Frank lunged across the camp and took hold of Salty’s arm. “Come on,” he urged the old-timer. “We need to get up there in those trees.”
Reb was already grabbing their packs and kicking dirt and rocks over the fire to put it out and hide the signs of it.
“Who do you reckon it is?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Frank said, “but the way things have been going, chances are it’s not anybody friendly.”
He helped Salty up the slope into the trees that covered the top of the knoll. Reb came behind them, bringing both packs and his Winchester. They took cover behind the thick trunks of the pines and waited.
The riders were coming from the west, down the long, shallow valley between hills that Frank and his companions had been following. The sun had started to rise, casting its garish light over the landscape. That light was an explosion of red as the riders trotted around a bend in the trail and came into view.
The splash of color wasn’t just from the early-morning sunlight. The riders wore scarlet coats, along with black trousers and tan, peaked, flat-brimmed hats. The brass buttons on the coats gleamed in the sunlight.
Frank recognized the uniforms, and so did Salty. They had encountered a number of North West Mounted Policemen at Whitehorse the year before.
“Tarnation!” Salty exclaimed. “It’s the Mounties!”
Relief went through Frank, especially at the sight of the riderless horses being led by several of the red-coated men.
“It looks like they’ve got our horses, too. They must have stampeded back toward the mountains when Palmer and Lundy attacked us.”
Frank had gone in that direction, as well as searching north, south, and east of the camp, but he hadn’t found the horses. The Mounties had swept up the animals during their patrol, though.
“You two stay here,” he went on. “I’ll stop them.”
He stepped out of the trees and pointed his rifle skyward. Quickly, he squeezed off three shots, the universal frontier signal for somebody in trouble. Down below, the Mounties reined in their horses and wheeled toward the knoll.
Frank saw some of the red-coated constables draw rifles from saddle sheaths. He figured they had spotted him by now, so he waved his Winchester over his head in a sign that he was friendly. The Mounties came to a stop and waited.
Frank turned and waved for Salty and Reb to follow him. As he started down the slope, they came out of the trees behind him. Frank glanced over his shoulder and was glad to see that Reb had a hand on Salty’s arm, helping the old-timer.
