Reaching the creek, the cavalcadeproceeded upstream for several miles. Their ultimate destinationwas the Sierra Santa Rosa, the mountain chain north of the countyseat. There, many years ago, prospectors had abandoned all hope ofstriking it rich, There were still unclosed shafts to be found, asCollier well knew. He had planned this coup with infinite care andan alert eye to all details; the stolen shipment was on its way toa safe hiding-place.
Exactly one week later, nine-thirty of asunny morning in early spring, Colonel Jethro Lansing, of U.S. ArmyIntelligence, strode toward a neat white house in Fort Gale’sresidential sector. He looked brisk, efficient and agile, despitehis advanced years. He was almost sixty and, unless one peeredclosely at the lines of his craggy face, the grey in his bristlingmoustache and crinkly hair, he could pass for a man not yetfifty.
After ringing the bell at the front door ofthe cottage, he removed his hat and held it in the crook of hisleft arm. The door was opened by Catherine Telliger, wife of MajorMaxwell Telliger, an officer with whom Lansing was closelyacquainted. She was forty-two and still attractive, with a clearcomplexion and firm figure.
“Colonel Lansing! What a pleasantsurprise!”
“Catherine, my dear,” saidLansing, “it must be almost ten years since I asked you to call meJethro. A confirmed bachelor of my caliber enjoys to be addressed by hisChristian name—by a woman as beautiful as your goodself.”
“And, after ten years,” chuckled CatherineTelliger, “you’re still a shameless flatterer—even worse than Max.”She ushered him into the hallway, took his hat and hung it on apeg. Then, frowning, she asked, “Was it an army matter you wishedto discuss with him?”
“I’m afraid so—yes,” he nodded. “Myapologies, Catherine. I realize he’s on leave, but ...”
“It isn’t a question of whether Max would bewilling,” she explained. “Haven’t you always referred to him as themost available officer of your entire command?”
“Good old Max,” chuckled Lansing. “Notonly the most available, but the best, the smartest, the mostaudacious—ah!—when I think of all Max has achieved during hisdistinguished career ...!”
“Jethro,” said Catherine, “I’m terriblysorry, and I’m sure Max will be even sorrier.”
“About what?” demanded Lansing.
“Just this once,” she sighed, “he is notavailable.”
“Nonsense,” snorted Lansing. “He has neverfailed me yet. After every secret mission—no matter howdangerous—he just can’t wait to resume duty. Your husband istireless, Catherine. Tireless, dauntless, wise beyond his years...”
“Thank you,” she gravely acknowledged, “onMax’s behalf. But I repeat, Jethro, he is not available. He can’taccept an assignment.”
“I think you’d better explain,” saidLansing.
“I think Max had better explain,” shecountered. “This way, Jethro.” She ushered him along the hall tothe open doorway of a bedroom, gestured for him to enter. “Max,dear. You have a visitor.”
“Colonel!” Her husband sat up in bed,flashed his superior officer a pleased grin. “By glory, it’s goodto see you. Come in. Pull up a chair. Cathy—fetchcoffee.”
“Rightaway,” smiled Catherine.
Lansing trudged to a chair and seatedhimself. The chief of Army Intelligence was wont to describe MajorTelliger as his best and most valued officer, an investigator ofrare and varied talent—and well-nigh indestructible. At thismoment, however, Telliger didn’t appear indestructible or valuable.How could he, with his right arm in a sling and his left leg insplints? To add to the colonel’s dismay, Telliger wore naught butthe bottom half of his longjohns. His torso would have been bare,but for the adhesive tape wound tightly from armpits tobelly.
Noting his chief’s reaction, Telligerabruptly ceased to be cheerful.
“The leg,” he penitently reported, “isfractured in two places. The arm injury is less complicated, aclean break. And—uh—three cracked ribs ...”
“You were involved in a violent brawl,”guessed Lansing. “The Fort Gale sheriff was in difficulties, so youwent to his aid.”
“Well—no,” frowned Telliger.
“A wagon-team bolted?” suggested Lansing.“You halted them, and were injured in the process?”
“Well—no,” frowned Telliger.
“No?” Lansing turned beetroot-red, wrung hishands and raised his voice to a parade-ground bellow. “Exactly whatin blazes did happen to you?”
With his good hand, Telliger gesturedapologetically. “The fact is, Colonel, I fell off a ladder.”
“You—what?” breathed Lansing.
“A stupid accident,” muttered Telliger. “Ithappened yesterday, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard.”
“I came directly to your billet, Major,”snapped Lansing. “So grave is the matter I had to discuss withyou.”
“I was—uh—replacing shingles on the roof,”sighed Telliger. “My foot slipped. I fell. And—uh—that’s it,Colonel. I assure you I feel worse than foolish. All thisdamage—caused by a mere fifteen foot fall ...”
Lansing produced a ’kerchief and mopped athis brow, the while he worriedly inspected his host. The major wasin his mid-forties and, despite receding hair and a tendency toobesity, still a handsome man. A ready wit and a keen intellectlurked behind that jovial exterior, as Lansing well knew. It was atragedy that he should find the Department’s most intrepid officerin this condition at this time, and he said as much.
“Max—this is a tragedy.”
“Not all that tragic,” protested Telliger.“Damn-it-ail, Colonel, it could have been worse.”
“When I say it’s a tragedy,” mutteredLansing, “I refer to the undeniable fact that you areincapacitated, incapable of accepting an assignment. And, believeme, this would have been one of the most important assignments ofyour career.”
“How about Carmichael,” suggestedTelliger, “or Scott?”
“Both serving as witnesses at acourt-martial in Colorado,” growled Lansing.
“Captain Ross?” frowned Telliger.
“On duty in South Wyoming,” said Lansing.“The Cheyenne situation. I daren’t re-assign him at this time.”
“Kirsch?” asked Telliger.“Donlevy? Boulton ... ?”
“Good men,” shrugged Lansing, “but a shadetoo raw for a job of this kind.”
“I suppose there’s nothing to be gained byyour telling me about it,” said the major.
“You may as well hear it,” frowned Lansing.He produced two cigars, clamped one between his teeth, rose fromhis chair and passed the other to Telliger. The major accepted alight, grunted his thanks. Lansing returned to his chair, foldedhis arms and stared moodily at his host’s damaged leg.
“You’re familiar with the Bosworth Countysituation, I believe?”
“Bosworth County ...” Telliger half-closedhis eyes and put his memory to work. “Two days west of Fort Gale.Cattle and farming. The county sheriff’s name
