By noon, Andy felt recovered enough to go outside and sit on a bench. He saw Daggett escorting Carrie into the hotel restaurant. Most people considered it the best in town, though he had visited cow camps that served better fare. Andy had seldom seen a full-blown smile on Daggett’s face, but he was smiling now. So was Carrie.
There’s no accounting for a woman’s taste, he thought.
In a while he saw Rodock enter the restaurant. He wondered if Daggett’s smile left him.
Early in the afternoon the Teal family left, Carrie and Lanny in a supply-laden wagon, the others on horseback. Daggett stood on a corner and watched until they were gone, then returned to where Andy sat.
Andy asked, “Did they tell you anything?”
Daggett shook his head. “Never got much chance to talk to the boys.”
“I doubted that you would.”
“Carrie said her brothers were asleep at the wagon yard when the shots were fired.”
“She was with them?”
“Of course not. They wouldn’t let their sister sleep in a wagon yard. They got her a room in the hotel.”
“So she can’t be sure they were asleep.”
“They wouldn’t lie to her.”
It was useless for Andy to belabor the point. “I think I’ll go back in and lay down a while.”
“You’d just as well. I can handle anything that comes up.”
Andy knew it was true, and it grated like gravel in his craw.
He was on his way to the Hawkinses’ ranch soon after daylight. His head still ached and was sore to the touch. He could not pull his hat down tightly, but it was good to be up and moving. He had lain abed about as long as patience would allow.
He came upon the Hawkinses’ sheep. The dog loose-herded them while they grazed, turning back any that strayed far from the flock. Andy noticed that the dog limped. The hair on one leg was matted. Evidently he had been licking an injury. Noticing small splotches of blood on several sheep, Andy felt a sense of alarm.
As he rode up to the corral, he rough-counted about thirty sheep lying dead. Hawkins bent over one, shearing its fleece with hand clippers. Hearing Andy’s horse, Hawkins jumped to his feet and grabbed a rifle that leaned against a fence. With recognition came relief. “Andy, I thought one of those night riders had come back.”
“It looks like you were all set to shoot somebody.”
“Anyone who would kill a bunch of helpless sheep deserves to be shot.”
Andy dismounted and entered the corral. Flies were already buzzing around the dead animals. Hawkins said, “I have to salvage the wool while I can.” He bent back to the shearing.
Andy asked, “Anything I can do to help?”
“Just find the hood-wearing sons of bitches who did this.”
Hawkins’s eyes smoldered with anger as he described the attack. “They called for me to come out of the house. Said they’d burn the place down if I didn’t, so I went out. The leader reminded me what happened to the fence posts and said I’d be a dead man if I tried again. I managed to haul off and hit him once in the face. One of the others clubbed me down.” Hawkins rolled the fleece. “They’re probably the same ones who shot up the house the other night.”
“Minus one.” Andy explained about Bigelow.
Hawkins took satisfaction from the news. “So now they’re killing their own. If I were a member of that bunch, I’d watch my back.”
“You’d best watch it anyway. They meant it when they told you to give up the fence. Next time they won’t stop with your sheep.”
Hawkins tied the fleece and forced it into a burlap bag. “I suppose you’ve come out to try and persuade me.”
“That was my intention. This trouble won’t last forever. Your fence can wait.”
“I swore I wouldn’t let them control me.”
“Just for a while. Sometimes a man has to retreat so he can live to fight another day.”
Andy saw reluctance in the sheepman’s eyes, but Hawkins gave in. “Tell Babcock to cancel my order. One lone sheepman can’t fight the mob. Or one Ranger, either.”
“I promise you, we’ll do our best, me and Daggett.”
Jake McIntosh and his brother Ike had roped a heifer missed in the earlier branding. They had her feet tied and were heating a steel ring in a small mesquite fire when Andy happened upon them.
Jake still showed a bruise from his fight with Lanny Teal. He said, “Don’t worry, Ranger. She’s one of ours. Her mammy is right over yonder, carryin’ our brand.”
“Never thought different,” Andy replied. When the ring was hot, Jake picked it up with two sticks and methodically drew a Bar F brand on the heifer’s side. One of the brothers had already notched her ear.
Andy asked, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a stray brindle bull around here?”
Jake said, “We have. We’ve chased that old hellion from one end of this place to the other. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Teals ran him over here to bedevil us.”
“If you fenced your land, you could keep him out.” Andy hoped he was planting the seed of an idea.
“Papa hates fences like he hates rattlesnakes.”
“Some others do, too. I don’t suppose you heard that night riders hit Hawkins’s sheep last night.”
Jake appeared surprised. “Did they hurt the old man?”
“No, but they killed thirty or so head.”
The news left Jake troubled. “I suppose you’ve come over here to find out if we had anything to do with it. I swear to you, we didn’t. No matter what some folks think of us, we don’t go around killin’ people’s livestock. Not even sheep.”
Andy sensed that Jake was sincere. He said, “I didn’t think you-all were responsible. I just had to make sure.”
Jake dropped the hot ring into the sand to cool it. “We heard about your bad luck with your prisoner. We had nothin’ to do with shootin’ him.” He paused. “Have you talked to the Teals?”
“Daggett has. They didn’t own up to anything.”
“And never apt to.” Jake picked up the hot ring with his fingers but quickly dropped it again. “Changin’ the subject, have you seen anything of Lucy Babcock? I ain’t had time to go to town.”
Andy did not want to admit that he had seen Lucy hanging on to Lanny Teal’s arm. “I’ve seen her helpin’ her daddy at the store.”
“Pretty as a spotted pup, isn’t she?”
That was not the way Andy would have phrased it, but he said, “She is, for a fact.” The little he had seen of Lucy had given him the impression that she was like an autumn leaf, swept one way, then another by whatever wind happened by.
Jake said, “I can’t figure what she sees in Lanny.”
“What man can ever understand a woman’s mind? I don’t, and I’ve been married a while.”
“But that redheaded Lanny of all people . . . he’s as ugly as a mud fence.”
“He’s not a bad feller when you come to know him. You could be friends if you’d get past the bad blood between your family and his.”
“Damned unlikely, the way Papa and Harper Teal feel toward each other.”
Andy said, “They’re two stubborn old men who’ve carried a grudge way too long. You’re too young to remember the war, and so is Lanny.”
“I have to respect Papa’s feelin’s. Anyway, my quarrel with Lanny is personal.”
“Why don’t you stand back and let Lucy make her own choice?”
“She might choose wrong. I’d feel bad about lettin’ her make a mistake.”
Jake untied the heifer. She jumped to her feet and pawed the ground with one forefoot, looking for somebody to fight. Jake tossed his hat at her. She flipped it over her back, then trotted away, shaking her head. Ethan McIntosh rode up with his son, Harvey. He was in the same belligerent mood as the departing heifer. He studied her a moment, then said critically, “That is not the prettiest brand I ever saw. Did I not send you to school to learn your letters?”
Jake said, “Puttin’ a brand on a hairy hide ain’t like writin’ on a slate. The main thing is to let everybody know that heifer is ours.”
McIntosh scowled. “Some don’t care whether they’re ours or not. We’re missing a bunch down on the south side. Harvey and I are sure they have been run off.” He turned upon Andy with an angry challenge. “Instead of sitting here indulging yourself in gossip, Ranger, you should be doing something about it.”
Andy said, “Show me where they were at. Maybe they left enough tracks that I can follow them.”
“From what I heard, you can’t even take care of a prisoner.”
The old man’s prickly attitude got under Andy’s skin, but he tried not to let it cloud his judgment. He asked, “How did you hear about it?”
“One of those infernal wagon peddlers dropped by yesterday. He sold my wife and daughter a lot of worthless doodads. It was a waste of money, but that’s womankind for you. They are drawn to anything that glitters or shines.”
Jake said, “Me and Ike were ridin’ down on the south end yesterday. We didn’t see nothin’.”
Ethan’s face contorted. “You wouldn’t see an elephant in the kitchen unless it stepped on your foot. Someone is determined to steal us blind and push us out of this country. I see the fine hand of Harper Teal.”
Andy pointed out, “The Teal place is to the north of you, not the south.”
“But Mexico is not. If they drive those cattle into the South Texas brush, I had just as well scratch them out of my tally book.”
Jake said, “You don’t reckon Vincent Skeen has risen from the grave, do you, Papa?”
“Not likely, with the heavy load of lead he carried. But his old gang of thieves may have reunited.” Ethan jerked his head at Andy. “Come on, Ranger. You, too, Jake and Ike. Get your minds on your business.”
Andy wished Daggett were here. He had a keener eye for tracking. But to circle by town and pick him up would cost too much time. There was no way to know how much head start the thieves had.
Harper said, “I hope you have sufficient ammunition, Ranger.”
“My cartridge belt is full.”
“If we catch up to the rustlers, I want to see every one of them carry lead enough to sink him to the bottom of the deep blue sea.”
“In that case, you’d better send somebody to town to fetch my partner Daggett. He prefers to shoot first and then ask questions, if he’s got any.”
Harper nodded. “Harvey, you go. If I sent Jake, he would stop to spark that storekeeper’s daughter and forget what he went for.” He jerked his head again. “Let’s be gone from here.”
Jake said, “But we’ve got no grub with us, and no blankets.”
Harper’s answer was fierce. “You can sleep with your saddle blanket. As for grub, you ate enough supper last night to carry you for a week. If you’d fought through the war as I did, you’d know to punch extra notches in your belt and persevere. Live off the fat of the land.”
Jake still had reservations. “When you go south from here, the land gets awful skinny.”
“So will we all if we let them steal everything we have.” Harper started off in a stiff trot.
Jake muttered, “Papa’s got a way of endin’ a conversation in a hurry. Especially when it goes against his thinkin’.”
Andy said, “Lots of people are like that.” He thought of his Ranger partner, who had little patience for argument. Daggett took it as a matter of immutable truth that he was always right.
They reached a narrow valley where Ethan and the boys had placed a set of young cows and their calves some days earlier. Ethan said, “They would not have left here on their own volition. It’s some of the best grass on the ranch, and the creek furnishes all the water they would want. The tracks indicated that they were driven south.”
Andy pointed out, “That’s away from the Teals’ ranch.”
Ethan declared, “They would not keep Bar F cattle on their own land. They had just as well go to the sheriff and sign a confession. But if old Harper is out to break us, he could pass the cattle on to accomplices to be driven out of the country.”
“I don’t know why you’re convinced that Harper Teal is behind it.”
“That old Johnny Reb hates Union men. There is little he would not do to gut me.”
“I thought the war got settled at Appomattox.”
“Not until every one of those old rebels is dead and buried. Help me get the evidence and I’ll bury Harper myself.”
Andy glanced at Jake and Ike. Both were looking away, staying out of it.
They found a few tracks too badly windblown for certainty about the direction of travel. Andy said, “I’d say they were goin’ south, but it’s hard to be sure.”
Ethan said, “South makes more sense than north.”
Just at dusk, Andy shot a deer. That would be their supper, without salt and without coffee to wash it down. They followed the tracks until dark, losing them frequently and spending a lot of time searching.
Ethan chided his sons, “If you had been paying attention, we could have joined this trail a day sooner. By the time we catch up—if we do—our cattle will be speaking Spanish.”
He had Andy and his sons up before daylight. They roasted more venison on sticks above the coals while they waited for sunup so they could see the tracks. Ethan dropped his meat on the fire but brushed away the ashes and ate it anyway. He was every inch an old soldier. He caught his sons exchanging glances of disapproval and said, “If you had gone hungry as many times as I have, little things like ashes and dirt would not bother you.”
Jake replied, “We didn’t say anything.”
Ethan shook his head. “The younger generation! I’m afraid there is scant hope for the world.”
Andy went out to check on the horses so he could grin without risking the old man’s anger.
They had been underway about an hour and had proceeded only a couple of hundred yards when they saw Daggett, Harvey, and Sheriff Seymour catching up. Ethan growled, “I don’t know why they brought Seymour along. Without his glasses he couldn’t even see a cow, much less her tracks.”
Reining up, Daggett said, “We smelled the smoke from your campfire. It don’t look like you’ve got very far.”
Andy said, “A crow in flight would’ve left a better trail than this.”
“It’s too bad the Indians didn’t teach you a lot more.”
The mention of Indians aroused Ethan’s curiosity. Andy had to explain that as a boy he had been stolen by Comanches and had lived among them for several years.
Ethan said, “At least the Comanches were honest thieves. They made no pretenses about their intentions . . . not like some people who go to church every Sunday. On Monday they will steal your socks without taking your boots off.”
Daggett and the sheriff had brought the Ranger packmule along. Jake said, “I hope you got some coffee in that pack.”
The sheriff said, “Coffee, bacon, some flour and salt.”
Jake grinned. “Come the next election, you’ve got my vote.”
Ethan cut him a glance that told him to shut up.
Daggett was not long in finding the trail of the cattle. Though he sometimes lost it, he usually found it again more quickly than Andy could. By the third day the all-meat diet had become monotonous, but the tracks were fresh. Daggett said, “You can’t get but so much travel out of a cow-calf herd.”
Ethan said, “Cows are the factory. If you steal enough of them, you drive a man out of business. I am sure that is what Harper is thinking. He would love to lay his hands on my land.”
Andy had given up trying to argue that the only way Ethan could protect his hold on the land would be to buy it. He hoped the three sons were more accepting of a new idea.
Daggett rode out in front, the others trailing behind to prevent compromising the trail should Daggett lose it and have to circle back to hunt for it again. Late in the day the big Ranger halted abruptly, then signaled the others to come up.
He pointed and said, “Yonder they are.”
A strung-out herd of cows plodded along at a slow, footsore pace. Their calves, of all sizes from babies to short yearlings, struggled to keep up. Most were in the dusty drags, behind the main herd.
Andy counted four riders with them. He considered the possibility that a fifth might be somewhere ahead, marking the route.
Andy looked to Daggett. “What do you think?”
Ethan spoke up sharply. “Charge into them. Kill every man and hope Harper Teal is among them.”
Andy had little concern that he would be.
Daggett said, “Mr. McIntosh’s got the right notion. Slam into them hard and fast. Maybe they’ll be too rattled to put up much of a show.”
Andy cautioned the McIntoshes, “You know that recklessness can get somebody killed.”
Ethan was not moved. He said, “If you’re scared, stay back and let my boys and me handle this. These are our cattle.”
Andy said, “I’m talkin’ about bein’ cautious. You don’t want to make an easy target. And remember that it’s hard to hit what you aim at from a runnin’ horse.”
Daggett remained in the lead, holding the riders to an easy trot as they closed the distance. They were within two hundred yards before one of the herders looked back. He shouted a warning, and two of the men quickly turned their horses around. The other, up at point, was too far ahead to hear.
The thieves fired a couple of shots, then decided escape was the best option. They spurred their horses into a hard run, sweeping past the startled point rider. He followed but could not catch up.
Waving a pistol, Ethan leaned forward and let out a furious screech as he applied his spurs. Andy thought he felt a puff of wind as the old man raced by him. Then two Rangers and four McIntoshes were in full pursuit. The sheriff trailed a little.
Ethan drew up beside the point man and fired. The rider threw up his hands and tumbled from his running horse. Looking back, Andy saw the sheriff dismount beside the fallen rider. Daggett managed to pass Ethan and pull in beside another of the thieves. The rider fired at him but missed. Daggett put a bullet into him and brought him down.
The other two fugitives managed to draw more speed from their horses and gradually widened their lead. Daggett began slowing his horse. Andy followed suit as he felt his mount tiring. The three McIntosh sons had not been able to keep up with their father. Like the Rangers, they gave up the chase.
Ethan did not stop until he realized he was far out in front all by himself, losing ground to the remaining two thieves. He reined around and came back, cursing. “We could have gotten them to the last man if you hadn’t all quit.”
Daggett removed his hat and wiped a sleeve across his sweating forehead. “They were outrunnin’ us. You’d’ve been in a fix if they’d turned about and come at you out there all by yourself.”
“I would not,” Ethan protested. “I would have killed them both.”
Andy said impatiently, “We brought down two of them, and we got your herd back.” He turned to look at Ethan’s sons. “Anybody hurt?”
Ike’s sleeve showed a streak of blood. He said, “Just nicked me a little. It was a lucky shot.”
Daggett led the way back to examine the two fallen outlaws. He spent only a moment with the first, dismissing him with a motion that said he was dead. Sheriff Seymour stood beside the one Ethan had shot in the side.
Andy dismounted but saw that this man, too, was dead. He asked, “Did he say anything?”
Seymour said, “I hoped to ask him some questions, but he just groaned a time or two and died.”
Ethan drew his horse close. His eyes were wild with lingering excitement as he leaned down to look at the fallen man. “Are you sure we can’t make him talk?”
Andy gritted his teeth. “It’s hard to get a man to tell you much after you’ve killed him.”
Ethan was disappointed. “Damn the man for dying too quickly!”
Daggett said gruffly, “It was you that shot him.”
Ike broke the tension by saying, “Papa, our cattle are scatterin’. Let’s go see about them.”
Ethan and his sons rode off to gather the herd.
Andy closed the outlaw’s glazed eyes. He asked the sheriff, “Do you know him?”
“Yeah. I’ve had to jail him for fightin’. He’s agreeable when he’s sober, but he’s a mean drunk.”
“Did you look at the other one?”
“I know him. He’s finished off many a Saturday night in a cell. He’s a singin’ drunk.”
Daggett said, “Too bad those other two got away. I don’t suppose you were able to see who they were?”
The sheriff grimaced. “With these old eyes of mine? All I could do is guess.”
Andy asked, “And if you were to guess?”
“I’d guess Harold Pearcy and Sonny Vernon. But don’t tell Ethan. He might hunt them down and shoot them without waitin’ for judge and jury.”
The McIntoshes brought the cattle together. Jake caught the two loose horses and led them to where Andy and Daggett waited. He studied the outlaw’s face. “I’ve seen that man in town.”
Seymour nodded. “Did you ever happen to notice who he palled around with?”
“Never paid that much attention. When I’m in town, I’ve got better things to do.”
They hoisted the dead man onto one of the horses and rode to where the other lay. In his pocket Andy found a crumpled letter addressed to Colley Lamkin. He scanned the letter, written to remind Lamkin that he owned the writer money.
Ethan joined them shortly and said he knew neither of the men. “I do not waste my time becoming acquainted with lowlifes.” He pointed toward the herd, and his eyes brightened. “They’re mostly ours, all right, but a few of Harper Teal’s are in there too. That’s quite a joke on Harper. He sends thieves to steal my cattle and they take some of his as well.”
Andy stifled a sudden impulse. There was probably some fool law against choking an old man, no matter how much he might deserve it.
The little posse had gone through the provisions Daggett and Seymour had brought. They found a bag of coffee beans and a small slab of bacon in an outlaw’s blanket roll. Andy had no compunctions against eating a dead man’s food. In this case it would otherwise be left for the coyotes. To hell with the coyotes, he thought. Let them catch a rabbit.
Daggett stared over a cup of coffee at the two men tied facedown across their horses. “They won’t last long if we stay with the McIntoshes and this slow herd. We’d best carry them back to town as quick as we can.”
Seymour said, “They had friends among a certain element. I’m afraid shootin’ them won’t make any of us popular with that crowd.”
Daggett replied, “We wasn’t sent here to be popular. We came to bring peace and quiet. That means if you have to kill some people, you do it.”
Andy said, “Maybe these two are the last.”
The sheriff grunted. “I wouldn’t bet a plug of tobacco on that. At least old Ethan got his cattle back. I won’t have to listen to him bellyache about me bein’ too old for this job.”
Andy asked, “Have you ever thought about sittin’ in a rockin’ chair on the porch and lettin’ the world handle its troubles without you?”
“I think about it all the time, but I’ve got nothin’ to retire on. Spent most of my life protectin’ other people’s property but never had a chance to get my own. Damned little money, either. So here I am, wore out like an old pair of boots. My eyesight is fadin’, and I’ve got nothin’ much to show for my life. There’s old Ethan McIntosh with ranch and cattle that I’ve helped protect for him, bitchin’ because I haven’t done more. You watch, he’ll soon holler for me to arrest Harper Teal.”
Daggett pointed out, “Don’t it strike you strange that the Teals would have somebody steal their own cattle?”
“It could be a way of coverin’ up.”
Andy said, “Or maybe neither family is implicated. Maybe somebody is tryin’ to break both families.”
The sheriff asked, “To what purpose?”
“So when the smoke clears, they can pick up the leavin’s. Mason Gaines hinted as much.”
“Gaines?” Seymour rubbed his chin. “I never did cotton to that carpetbagger. Never could trust a man who was always right.”
Andy said, “He could be fannin’ up trouble for his own reasons. Then again, it might not be him at all.”
Seymour said, “There’s aplenty of free rangers that have got no love for either family. My jail ain’t big enough to hold them all.”
Andy said, “If we can find the right one or two, maybe that’ll put the quietus on what’s left.”
Daggett looked at the bodies tied over two horses. “Let’s lope up and get them to town before they turn ripe. We’ve got no shovel.”
Andy attended the funeral, not to mourn but to see who-all came. Among that group, he thought, might be some of the people responsible for the troubles. The crowd did not amount to much, however. Aside from the sheriff, Deputy Willis, and the two Rangers, the gathering numbered fewer than a dozen. Even the minister was reluctant, for he had never seen the two in church and knew little to say in their behalf. Instead he preached a sermon on the wages of sin and mentioned no names.
As the attendees dispersed, Andy and the sheriff watched two county employees begin shoveling dirt into the graves. Andy asked, “Did you see anybody you suspect?”
Seymour said, “I suspect just about everybody who was here, not countin’ the minister. He showed how little he knows about sin.”
Editor Tolliver waited until the sheriff was gone before he approached Andy at the cemetery gate. “Might I trouble you for a few questions?” he asked.
“I don’t know as I’ve got any answers.”
“I am interested in how these two thieves came to their end.”
Andy told of trailing the cattle and almost taking the culprits by surprise. “Ethan McIntosh shot the first one. Daggett got the second. We couldn’t catch the others.”
“Did anyone recognize the two who got away?”
Andy chose not to mention the sheriff’s guess. “Never got close enough.”
“And the two who were shot . . . did either of them say anything?”
“One lived a few minutes. The sheriff stopped to see about him but told us he was too far gone to talk.”
“So you learned nothing about who might have been behind the taking of the cattle?”
“That’s the size of it.”
Tolliver’s heavy mustache quivered. “Quite convenient, wouldn’t you say, for anyone who might be a party to the trouble around here? The only identifiable thieves died without answering any questions.”
Andy frowned. “If you’re tryin’ to say somethin’, speak straight out.”
“I hear that Ethan McIntosh has made some interesting accusations against Harper Teal.”
“He’s obsessed with an old grudge, and his mind is slippin’.”
“I have long suspected that Sheriff Seymour has leaned more toward the Teals than the McIntoshes. He was Confederate, too. And you have only his word that the wounded outlaw said nothing. What if our esteemed sheriff did not want him to say anything?”
“Are you accusin’ him?”
“Not at all. I am simply weighing the possibilities. Our sheriff is no longer young, and he faces an uncertain future. Lesser men in his position have succumbed to the temptation to profit from others’ misfortunes.”
“Whatever you print in your paper, you’d better be ready to back up with the evidence.”
“That I shall, when and if the time comes. You may not recognize it, Pickard, but you and I are working in the same vineyard. We are both seekers after the truth.”
Watching Tolliver walk back down toward town, Andy weighed the man’s words. Yes, Seymour had been alone with the dying thief. If he had reason not to want the man to talk, he could easily have rushed the dying process.
Andy tried to dismiss what Tolliver had said, but the seed of doubt was germinating.
Andy and Daggett were having a late breakfast in the little hole-in-the-wall café, listening to proprietor Kennison propose solutions for the world’s problems, when a rider swept by at a speed too reckless for a town street. Daggett exclaimed, “That’s Carrie.” He jumped up and rushed for the door. “Pay the man!” he shouted as he hurried out.
Andy dropped a handful of change on the table. It was too much, but he did not have time to wait for a count. He caught up to Daggett as Carrie jumped down from her sweat-streaked horse in front of the jail. Daggett’s shout stopped her as she reached for the door. She turned, her face flushed with excitement.
The words tumbled out without allowing time for her to catch her breath. “Thank God, Logan, you’re here. Our place got shot up in the wee hours this morning. We fought them off, but now Pa is on his way to the McIntoshes’ ranch. He intends to have it out with Ethan McIntosh.”
Daggett asked, “Are your brothers with him?”
“Yes. Somebody is going to be killed if you don’t stop them.”
Andy asked, “Anybody hurt?”
“One of our cowboys cut his arm on a broken window glass, is all. It was too dark for good aim, but we poured as much lead into them as they poured into us.”
Daggett said, “Let’s grab our horses. We’ll have to ride hard to get to the McIntoshes’ place first.”
Andy said, “I don’t think we can.”
“We’ll try, even if we kill two horses doin’ it.”
Editor Tolliver walked down the courthouse steps, attracted by Carrie’s breathless manner. He said, “May I ask the occasion for all this excitement?”
Daggett said, “You tell him, Carrie. We ain’t got time.”
She protested, “I’m going with you.”
“You’ve nearly killed that horse already. Best thing you can do now is to find the sheriff. Tell him what you told us, then go home.”
The two Rangers hit a long trot toward the wagon yard.