Slocum arose early while Laurie was still fast asleep. He dressed quickly, strapped on his gun belt, and left her cabin before the sun was up.
He walked over to Harvey’s unfinished log cabin and saw lamps burning. Smoke curled from the chimney and he could smell the aroma of strong coffee when he knocked on the front door.
Harvey opened the door. He was dressed except he had no shirt on over the top of his long johns.
“John,” he said. “What brings you here at such an early hour?”
“Wanted to talk to you before you went to the mine,” Slocum said.
“Sure. Come on in. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. My eye opener. Join me?”
Slocum went in and Harvey closed the door, waved Slocum to a crude wooden chair that had no padding as yet. The cabin smelled of fresh logs and fresh-cut lumber in cabinets and tables.
Harvey walked to his kitchen and came back with two tin cups. He picked up the coffeepot on the potbellied stove in the front room and poured the cups nearly full.
They drank coffee and rubbed their overnight beard stubble.
“So, you came here for a reason so early, John. What is it?”
“I want to warn you, Harve, and show you something.”
Slocum pulled the wanted flyer from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Harvey.
Harvey read it quickly and looked long and hard at the drawing of Junius Collins.
Then he handed the flyer back to Slocum, who refolded it and slipped it back in his shirt pocket.
“I’m not very surprised,” Harvey said. “But surprised. That’s Orson Canby, I’m sure.”
“It is. He murdered a friend of mine in Dodge City when he was called Junius Collins.”
“So you’re going to try and collect the bounty?”
“For his widow, yes,” Slocum said.
“Well, good luck. Canby is surrounded by guns and men who know how to use them.”
“That’s not why I came over, Harvey,” Slocum said.
Harvey sipped his coffee. His eyebrows arched.
“No? Why, then?”
“If you saw those smoke signals yesterday, you know the Apaches are up to something.”
“I’ve seen smoke signals before. Not here, but on the way out here.”
“Last night, a wagonload of guns left Deadfall and headed out to the desert. Spencer repeaters. Carbines. And ammunition. I think Canby is in cahoots with the Apaches. On the way here in Obie’s wagon, we were attacked by some Apache braves.”
“Oh?”
“Except one of them was a Mexican named Sanchez. Obie told me he worked for Canby.”
“Yes. Fidel Sanchez. He was one of Canby’s strong arms. Gave me and some other miners a hard time a couple of months ago. You killed him?”
“Yes. He was wearing Apache clothes. And war paint.”
“Hmmm. Curious.”
“More than curious, Harvey. I think Canby wants the Apaches to wipe out the settlement here so he can lay claim to all the holdings in this valley.”
Harvey let out a low whistle.
“So,” Slocum said. “From now on, carry your rifle with you when you go to and from your mine. There will be some kind of signal, I’m sure, which will give Canby a chance to light a shuck before the shooting starts.”
“I’d better warn all my friends here,” Harvey said.
“Laurie and I plan to ride out this morning and convey this message to everyone. If we stick together, we can drive the Apaches out of here before they slaughter every man in Deadfall.”
“All right. Good idea. I can’t possibly see every man here while I’m on foot.”
Slocum finished his coffee and rose up from his chair.
He and Harvey shook hands.
“What about Canby?” Harvey asked.
Slocum started for the door.
“I’m going after him,” Slocum said. “Today.”
“Good luck.”
“Watch your topknot, Harvey.”
Slocum left and walked back to Laurie’s cabin.
The sun was still in another part of the world.
He had a lot to do and very little time to accomplish all that needed to be done.
But, he thought, he had made a start.