Rafe turned toward them, skirted a bed of manzanita, and began to follow them back to the north.
They took a wide, circuitous route that Jason hoped would keep them out of range—pistol range, anyway—and at last came to the northern-most point of the rock pile. Jason signaled the men to be quiet and on their guard. He couldn’t be certain that Davis hadn’t figured out their plan. Davis could easily be waiting for them, his guns drawn, ready and willing to commit triple homicide.
Jason dismounted, ground-tied Cleo, and tentatively walked to the edge of the last boulder. He peeked around the back side of it.
He saw nothing. Not a man, not a horse, nothing.
But there were plenty of nooks and crannies in those boulders for Davis to hide in, and hide his horse in, too. He beckoned to Abe, who ground-tied Boy, too, and joined him.
“Crud,” Abe said quietly, after a moment. “You think he took off the other way while we was bein’ all sneaky?”
Jason shook his head and whispered, “No. We would have heard him. Sound carries like crazy out here.”
Abe nodded. “I know. Well, who goes first?”
“I do. It was my deputy that he gunned down.”
“Yeah,” said Abe, “but that was back in your jurisdiction.”
Rafe suddenly appeared between them and asked, “What’re you two cookin’ up over here?”
“Shhh!” hissed both Jason and Abe.
Rafe rolled his eyes. “You want Davis, he’s out here.”
Jason beat Abe to the edge of the rocks and sure enough, saw the silhouette of a rider jogging further south.
“You any good with that rifle of yours?” he asked Abe.
“Yeah. But Rafe’s a mite better.”
“Rafe! Consider yourself temporarily deputized.”
“But I—”
Abe cut him off. “He wants you to shoot Davis. He’s makin’ like he’s no good with a rifle.”
“Well, I’m not. Hurry up, he’s getting away!”
Rafe said, “Okay, okay!” and pulled his rifle from the saddle’s boot. Jason watched nervously as he sighted on Davis, then slowly—it seemed like a lifetime!—squeezed the trigger.
The blast took them all by surprise, Rafe included. But it took no one more off guard than Sampson Davis. He continued on a few steps, then slid awkwardly from his horse, disappearing into the tall weeds with a slump.
Abe clapped Rafe on the shoulder. “Helluva shot, kid, helluva shot! Your daddy’d be spit-polish proud!”
Rafe was staring at his rifle and didn’t look up. “I ’bout forgot how loud it was.”
“Well, let’s go pick him and his horse up.” Abe was already mounting his roan.
Jason hadn’t yet moved. “What if he’s not dead?” he asked, his voice flat. “What if he’s just lying there in the weeds, waiting for us to get close enough for him to pick us off?”
Abe tilted his head. “Good thinkin’, Jason. But if he is, there ain’t nothin’ we can do about it, ’cept get shot. C’mon, you two! Let’s move!”
Davis proved not to be dead, but he wasn’t far from it.
They loaded him on his horse, tied him down (after they relieved him of his firearms), and Jason found the gun he’d used to shoot Ward. It was a snub-nosed handgun, stuck down inside his boot—the one place Jason supposed Rafe and Lew hadn’t patted down when Davis was arrested the first time. When Rafe saw the gun, he at least had the good grace to look sheepish.
They started back. At a walk this time, not a gallop. Davis remained out cold, though Jason checked on him from time to time. His breathing was shallow but regular, so far as he could tell, and his color looked good. But he wasn’t taking any chances. He watched Davis like the proverbial hawk.
They were riding along when Abe said, out of the blue, “Y’know that creek we crossed on the way out?”
Jason looked over. “What of it?”
“It seem to you like it was some deeper than back in town, and quite a bit slower?”
Jason scratched the back of his head. “Come to think of it, yeah.”
“Somebody’s got ’er dammed up farther down the line, I reckon.”
Jason froze. Of course! What else would cause the Apache to attack at night? And it sure explained why Matt was so nervous! He spat, “Crap! MacDonald’s got it dammed up for his cattle so that it’s not reaching the Apache camp!”
He figured he’d go shoot a few arrows into MacDonald, too, if he cut off the water supply to Fury!
Abe nodded and said, “Thought so.”
Rafe jogged up from behind. “What you boys jabberin’ about up here?”
