By the time Joe and Jody reached Three Creeks, their horses were tuckered out. It was all the animals could do to breast the water of the last creek and stagger up onto dry land. As soon as the two men had ridden up to the house and slipped from the saddle. Will was there. As if drawn by a magnet, everybody on the place gathered in front of the yard. Even Pete Hasso limping badly on one leg.
Will gave orders for his horse to be saddled and for Joe’s saddle to be thrown on a fresh horse before he told the Negro what had happened to him at Grebb’s place. Joe listened in silence. He knew what was wanted of him without being told.
‘It ain’t goin’ to be easy,’ he said. ‘They’s sign all around Grebb’s place. I don’t know nothin’ about the horse.’
‘I know,’ Will said, ‘but it’s our only chance. I’m sure of only one thing—Aintree headed directly south at the start.’
‘If he did, we pick up his sign in this valley. But I reckon he changed course after a bit.’
He walked to the horse assigned him and swung up into the saddle. Will turned to Clay and said: ‘You take charge here, boy. I don’t want any search parties or such. Just keep Brack’s hands off this place.’
Riley Brack said: ‘I’d like to come along, Mr. Storm.’
‘Go ahead,’ said Pete Hasso bitterly, ‘hog it all.’
Will was thoughtful.
‘I’d like you to come, Riley,’ he said. ‘But it’s kinda tricky with your pa an’ all. We need everybody here.’
George said: ‘If you an’ Joe is goin’ north you could find yourselves on Broken Spur. Heck, pa, leave me come along.’
‘No,’ said Will, ‘it’s better this way.’ His eye caught Martha’s. She knew that he didn’t want any of the boys hurt. He walked to his horse and stepped into the saddle. The others wished them luck, and they rode out.
They headed north-west through the trees and within the hour were climbing the ridges. They didn’t hurry, for they didn’t want to punish their horses. They had no idea what lay ahead of them and they faced the possibility that the speed of their horses could save their lives.
They came down onto the Spring road and, on the lower ground, the rising heat struck at them. They began to sweat. When they came to the creek that worked its way down to Grebb’s place, they stopped to loosen cinches and water the horses. Another fifteen minutes and the road-ranch would be in sight. Will wondered what effect his visit and his talk had had on Grebb. The man might be ready to fight or change his course in the opposite direction. He doubted Grebb would fight. The man liked to win and a head-on meeting with the Storms might spell out disaster for him. Will’s threat to burn down his place must be rooted deep in his mind. Will smiled grimly to himself at the thought. Circumstances could sure alter a man. He didn’t know himself from the man he had been two-three years back.
They tightened cinches and rode on. Pretty soon they came in sight of the road-ranch. Smoke rose lazily from a cook-stove. The horses dozed in the corral. It looked a peaceful scene. As they rode off the trail toward the corral, Will knew they must have been sighted from the buildings. Grebb would guess what they were at. It couldn’t be helped. Aintree had a good start on them and they couldn’t waste time fooling around.
Will halted before he reached the southern end of the corral.
He pointed.
‘He came away from the corral about yonder.’
Joe walked his horse forward. He peered at the ground.
‘This been worked over,’ he said with faint disgust.
He turned his horse south, watching the ground. He edged his way further and further away from the corral until he was about a quarter mile distant. Will slowly rode after him. He felt a little apprehensive. So much rested on Joe finding something. If he couldn’t, nobody could.
Before he reached Joe, the Negro rode west. Will halted and watched him and soon saw that he was circling wide. After a while he halted and signaled for Will to join him. Will rode forward. Joe said: ‘There’s a man went south not too long ago. I can’t see nothin’ more so fresh.’
‘We’ll have to take a gamble.’
‘You’re the boss.’
They trotted their horse south and, as they came onto lower damper ground the sign was plain even to Will from the back of a moving horse. They followed for about a mile, then abruptly the rider turned east. They halted and looked at each other.
‘You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?’ Joe said.
‘Brack,’ Will said. ‘He panicked and headed for Brack. Maybe this is just what we want.’
‘Maybe Brack don’t want nothin’ to do with him.’
‘We’ll find him no matter what he did.’
They talked over whether they should stay with the sign or head straight for Broken Spur headquarters. Joe reckoned he knew Aintree’s sign and could pick it up near Brack’s.
‘If his riders give you the chance,’ Will said.
Joe laughed and said: ‘I think you have somethin’ there.’
Just the same, they changed direction slightly and headed into the south-east, lifting their horses to a steady mile-eating lope. They hit the ridges to the north of Spur in the late afternoon and the climbing slowed them badly. Still they didn’t push their horses. They would be worse than useless with beat-up mounts. It was getting near dusk as they rode down into the Broken Spur valley. They halted by water and rested their horses.
‘Reading sign is out,’ said Will. ‘So I’m goin’ ahead to take a look around.’ He walked his horse forward. He stopped and looked back when he heard Joe’s horse behind him.
‘Where do you think you’re goin’?’ he demanded.
‘Followin’ you,’ Joe said. ‘What you think I doin’? Fly in’ a kite?’
‘I said I’d do this alone.’
‘Wa-al, you ain’t.’
‘I’m tellin’, Joe. This ain’t no time for foolin’ around.’
‘An’ I tellin’ you.’
‘If you ain’t the most obstinate pig-headed ‘
‘You can talk,’ said Joe.
‘But I’ll be damned if it does me much good.’
‘Let’s git on then an’ cut out the gab.’
Will sighed and went on. Joe edged his way into the lead and Will let him, knowing that nobody could equal him in the dark. Pretty soon they heard cattle shifting in the darkness on either side of them. There was no other sound except the swish-swish and plod of the horses’ feet in the long grass.
Inside thirty minutes, Joe halted and said softly: ‘I reckon this is far enough.’
Will stepped down from the saddle.
‘Stay here,’ he said, ‘and hold the horses.’
Joe dismounted.
‘Take a coupla buffalo along,’ he said. ‘Then maybe they hear you real good.’
‘Cut it out,’ Will said. ‘I ain’t in the mood.’
‘Man,’ said Joe, ‘you know I talkin’ sense. You know it.’
Will knew it. Joe could go quieter than an Indian. If he went himself, maybe he’d ruin the whole enterprise. There was a note of bitterness in his voice when he said: ‘All right, if you’re so durned smart. Go ahead.’
Joe found his moccasins on his saddle and exchanged them for his boots. Then he said: ‘There’s trees over yonder. Best place for you-all.’ He faded into the darkness and Will, grumpy and sore, led the horses among the trees and tied them. He settled himself down with his back against the trunk of a tree and shivered a little in the increasing cold. After a while he started wanting to smoke. He put some tobacco in his cheek and made do with that.
Time ticked by. He felt sleep creeping over him and finally he started nodding.