miles?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there are some caves dug out of the sandstone cliffs up there. I expect that is where Jimmy found that Spanish treasure.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“He told me,” Dan said. “Pointed them out to me once, saying that he had found some old Spanish armor. You know, rusted helmets and breastplates. And not far away, he discovered the skeletons of their owners in some of those caves. I expect that we will find them too.”

Longarm could feel his pulse quicken. “Why, I don’t see why not.” He squinted and then urged his horse into a trot.

“Hey!” Dan shouted. “Go easy on my horse out here! This is hard country. Bow a tendon or give him a rock bruise or a cactus spine in the hock and you’re on foot, Marshal!”

Longarm knew that Dan was speaking the truth. But he hadn’t exactly put steel to the flanks of his animal and he was getting awfully anxious to unravel the mystery of Jimmy’s disappearance.

It seemed to take forever for them to reach the hidden spring where Dan had found his salvation. They watered their horses and filled their canteens.

“Told you this water was sweet, didn’t I?” Dan said, smacking his lips.

“You did and you weren’t exaggerating one bit,” Longarm said. “I can’t even imagine how happy you must have been if you were out here staggering around and ready to die of thirst.”

“I think the Lord put this spring here just to save me and open my eyes to see that we are here to serve our fellow man, not oppress or kill him.”

“Sometimes, Preacher, our ‘fellow man’ needs to be killed,” Longarm argued. “Hank Bass is a prime example, as is whoever cut poor Eli’s throat.”

Dan shook his head, but Longarm could not tell if he was in disagreement or just generally depressed by the grim subject. Either way, Longarm didn’t really care. When he found the men who had killed old Jimmy and Eli, then justice would be swift and final. Maybe that was entirely the wrong attitude for a man who carried a badge, but Longarm couldn’t help feeling that way.

“All right,” Dan said after they had rested and replenished their water supplies. “Let’s go find those Spanish conquistador caves and skeletons.”

“Let’s just hope we don’t find Jimmy’s skeleton with them,” Longarm said.

Dan nodded, then he went against his own advice as he forced his mount into a trot despite the unforgiving and intensifying heat of the desert sun.

Chapter 11

Longarm threw up his right hand as a signal for Preacher Dan to rein in his horse, then he dismounted and made sure that his shotgun was loaded and ready to fire in case someone was watching them from the rocks. He handed his reins to the older man and removed his hat, then started forward.

“I don’t think we have much to worry about,” Dan whispered. “It’s not likely that anyone is here.”

“Why take the chance?”

“But even if there were someone here, Marshal Long, I’d sure hope that you would try not to kill them.”

“What?”

“You’re a federal lawman—not an executioner.”

Longarm spun around on his boot heel. “That’s right, I am a federal marshal, but that doesn’t mean I’m also a fool! And if the same murdering son of a bitch that cut Eli’s throat and probably did the same thing to Jimmy is waiting up there for me, you can bet your life that I’m going to shoot to kill!”

“With a shotgun that big, you could hardly do otherwise.”

“That’s right. So just stay back here with the horses while I go up and scout around. It’ll be better for the both of us that way.”

“Very well,” Dan said. “Be careful.”

“Count on it.”

Off in the distance, Longarm could see a trail leading up into the rocks and it was clear that it had been used within the last few months. But he could not tell if it had been used in just the last few days.

There was an open place that he had to cross without any cover whatsoever. Longarm judged it to be perhaps twenty-five yards long and well exposed to the higher rocks. If there was an ambusher or two up above, this was where they would try to make their kill.

Longarm hunkered down behind some brush and sleeved sweat from his brow. He would wait awhile even though there was no indication that this place was inhabited. Besides, in a very short while, the sun would be burning directly over his left shoulder and into the rocks. It would create problems if there was an ambusher in waiting.

Longarm flicked a couple of big black ants off the back of his hand. He looked around to make sure that he wasn’t in the company of a rattlesnake or a scorpion, then he stretched out to full length and relaxed. He would have been quite happy to take a catnap, except that the sun was too bright and hot and the damned ants were a constant bother.

Time passed pleasantly enough, and every few minutes Longarm would tilt his hat back from his face and gaze up at the rocks and those sandstone caverns. He couldn’t see inside them because he was too low and they were a good fifty feet higher in elevation. And as for some dying Spanish conquistadors ending up in a hell like this, hundreds of miles from the nearest reliable river, well, Longarm could not imagine the anguish they must have felt

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