The trail ended shortly after they crossed into the Creek Nation. Tilghman found the spot where the outlaws had halted, presumably to split the loot from the train robbery. Like leaves scattered by the wind, the gang then split off in different directions. From past experience, the marshals knew there was nothing to be gained by further pursuit into the Nations. The manhunt ended where the tracks were obliterated on a heavily traveled wagon road.
The lawmen were less than a day’s ride from Tilghman’s ranch. Thomas decided to stay the night and then continue on to Guthrie. Though they had killed one of the gang, he was in no rush to deliver their report to Evett Nix. Madsen was determined to push on to El Reno, even though it meant spending a night on the trail. They parted at a crossroads southeast of Chandler.
Tilghman and Thomas arrived at the ranch shortly before sundown. As they rode into the compound, they saw a strange horse tied outside the corral. Neal Brown hurried from the house as they dismounted and began hitching their horses. His features were troubled.
“Wondered if you’d show up,” he said by way of greeting. “There’s a feller waitin’ inside to see you.”
Tilghman nodded. “Who is it?”
“Don’t know,” Brown said. “Wouldn’t give me his name. But he’s nervous as a whore in church.”
“Why’d you let him in the house?”
“Told me it was official business. I figgered he was somebody from the marshal’s office, in Guthrie.”
Tilghman and Thomas exchanged a look. They followed Brown back to the house and filed through the door. George Dunn was seated in the parlor, nervously running the brim of his hat through his hands. He jumped to his feet as they entered the room. His expression was a mixture of relief and worry. Tilghman turned to Brown.
“Do me a favor, Neal. Would you unsaddle our horses? Give them some grain?”
Brown appeared offended. “Hell, I know when I’m not wanted. All you had to do was say so.”
“Nothing personal,” Tilghman said. “I’ll explain it later.”
“Don’t even wanna know. Keep your damn secrets.”
Brown stormed out of the house. When the door closed, Tilghman turned back to Dunn. The parlor lamps were lighted, and in the cider glow the man’s features seemed pasty. He continued to twirl his hat by the brim.
“Let’s have it,” Tilghman said. “What brings you here?”
Dunn’s throat worked. “Bee sent me to fetch you. Pierce and Newcomb are at our place.”
“What about Doolin?”
“Just them two. They showed up a little after noontime.”
Tilghman’s look betrayed nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Thomas’s features were set in a skeptical frown. In the past, none of the gang members had stopped at Dunn’s ranch except when accompanied by Doolin. The presence of Charley Pierce and Bitter Creek Newcomb—by themselves—seemed oddly out of character.
“That’s a new one,” Tilghman said absently. “They just turned up unannounced—without Doolin?”
“Never done it before,” Dunn said in a raspy voice. “Bee thinks Doolin don’t know nothin’ about it. He’s worried sick.”
“Why would they come there alone?”
“Told us that was the last place you’d look. Figure you’re still off chasin’ around the Nations.”
Tilghman watched him. “Bee could’ve brought word himself. Why’d he send you?”
“Lots safer,” Dunn said earnestly. “Them boys never pay me no mind. They won’t miss me.”
“Where’s Bee now?”
“Took ’em into Ingalls to get some poon-tang. Woman just outside town runs her own little cathouse. Just her and her daughter.”
“Will they spend the night?” Thomas broke in. “Or will they come back to your place?”
“They’ll come back,” Dunn said. “Bee just went along to introduce ’em. This woman don’t generally take in strangers. Too dangerous.”
“How long you reckon they’ll be there?”
“Till their peckers go limp,” Dunn said with a quirky smile. “Them boys was on the rut somethin’ fierce.”
“So they’ll be back tonight?” Tilghman asked, staring at him. “You’re sure about that?”
“Don’t see no reason why not. They said they was gonna stick around a couple of days, maybe more.”
“And they’ll sleep in the dugout?”
“Have to,” Dunn said. “No place for ’em in the house.”
“Here’s what you do,” Tilghman said in a reassuring tone. “Tell Bee we’ll hit the dugout at sunrise. Take ’em by surprise.”
“One last thing,” Dunn said. “Bee don’t want our names brought into it. You gotta make ’em think it was one of your regular raids. Just outhouse luck.”
“You and Bee have held up your end of the deal. We’ll keep you out of it.”
Tilghman showed him to the door. Framed in the glow of lamplight, he stood there until Dunn rode out of the yard. Then he turned back into the parlor.
“Sounds all wrong,” Thomas said as he closed the door. “Why would Pierce and Newcomb double back and hide out there? They’d already lost us in the Nations.”
“Monkey see, monkey do,” Tilghman pointed out. “Doolin’s pulled the same trick before, and it worked. So they figure it’ll work for them.”
“Then they damn sure take the prize for dumb.”
“Heck, nobody ever accused them of being bright. Doolin’s the brains of that outfit.”
Thomas was skeptical. “Still stinks to high heaven. I don’t like it.”
“Why?” Tilghman pressed him. “You think it’s a trap of some sort?”
“Anything’s possible with that bunch. They’re all snakes, the Dunns included.”
“In that case, George Dunn’s a smooth liar. I got the feeling he was telling the truth.”
“What if he wasn’t?” Thomas persisted. “We’re liable to have a reception committee when we walk in there.”
“Only if we get there at sunrise.”
“That’s what you told him, wasn’t it?”
“I was lying,” Tilghman said with a wintry smile. “We’re leaving right now, on fresh horses. That’ll put us there not long after midnight.”
“I’ll be a sonovabitch!” Thomas marveled. “That’s why you asked him how long they’d be at the cathouse. You aim to lay a trap of our own.”
“Good night for it, too. We’ll have a full moon.”
“Like I’ve said before, you’ve got a devious
