by Danni Roan
Now it was time to ride.
Chapter 8
TITUS WALKED ACROSS the old camp for the third time sifting through the tracks and signs of the attack on Jed.
He’d found three sets of tracks all headed in the same direction and after collecting more ore and picking up some of the items they’d left behind he turned the mule along the trail.
It didn’t look like anyone had come back toward their camp, the site was just as desolate and empty as always, but the emotion building in Titus’ chest was pure fury.
How could anyone treat an old man the way these men had treated Jed? Not only had they beaten him senseless and left him for dead, they’d shot his oldest friend.
Titus tugged at his bandana, lifting it to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Summer was coming and soon the Nevada territory would sizzle like a fry pan.
Looking up at a bright white sun, he hoped he wouldn’t have to travel through the desert for too long.
He wanted nothing more than to see the outlaws brought to justice then turn back to Hester and Jed. The old man had taken him in when he’d known nothing about him, and his kindness had sparked loyalty in Titus.
Titus still didn’t know who he was, but he knew what it meant to be a friend, and he’d be glad to get back to see that Jed was well.
A WEEK HAD PASSED LIKE the dusty miles, hot, dry and weary, and Titus had barely been able to follow the tail laid down by the other men.
He was tired but determined, and he kept his horse turned down the trail. He was surprised that the men who had jumped Jed hadn’t made their way to Hester, but it was obvious they were headed north into Utah.
Surely he’d find them at the town that was coming into view on the horizon. Men like that would spend their ill gotten gains as fast as they could get them, but would they have already blown through what they’d taken from Jed and moved on?
The sun was creeping toward the western horizon as Titus road into the little town, his eyes scanning the darkening alleys for danger.
Spotting the jail house, he made his way toward it hoping the local law might know something about the outlaws that had attacked his friend.
“Howdy son,” A short stocky man called as Titus walked into the small log structure. “What can I do for ya?”
“I’m looking for three men,” Titus said, his eyes hard. “I’ve been deputized to find them for jumping an old miner on his claim.”
“Well, we got all sorts passin’ through here, a good number of ‘em ain’t worth the time to learn their names.” The sheriff pulled a pair of spectacles from his pocket and took the paper Titus held out to him.
“Hm,” he mused, “seems to me we did have a few that fit this description pass through about a week ago. Caused a bit of trouble over at the saloon; you’d better come with me.”
Titus took the paper the older man offered, folded it and put it back in his pocket, then turned to follow the sheriff out the door.
“Where we headed?” he finally asked as they passed two saloons, a general store, and an eatery.
“Undertaker,” the sheriff replied simply.
“Sheriff, you got more business for me?
a skeletal figure intoned as he stepped around an unfinished coffin.
“Not at the moment Mort,” the sheriff said. “I was wantin’ to see if you could show us the sketch of the miscreant you planted last week.”
“Sure, sure,” the other man said, eyeing Titus as if for a new suit. “Got it right here, I like to keep sketches in case they turn out to be wanted and worth a few pennies.” He finished rifling through a box full of papers. “Here ya are,” he finally said handing a crisp slip of paper to the sheriff.
“What’d ya say son? This one of them?”
Titus studied the sketch. Jed had given a detailed description of each of the men, pointing out identifying markings with care.
“I was kinda up close and personal like with ‘em.” The old prospector had declared with a grimace, when the sheriff of Hester had spoken to him.
“I think this is the one that kept kicking my friend when he was down,” Titus finally agreed: “tall, thin, scar behind his left ear, and dark brown hair.”
“I’ll hang on to this for a bit if you don’t mind Mortimer,” the sheriff said. “I’ll be sure you get a cut if there’s a bounty on him.”
“Appreciate the business, Sheriff,” the man grinned, his whole face pulling back into a series of grooves and hollows.
“Here it is,” the sheriff said a half hour later as they sorted through a number of wanted posters. “Looks like he’s been up to no good for a long time.”
Titus took the paper from the Sheriff and read through the description. “I’d have to agree Sheriff,” he said. “How’d he die anyway?”
“Fella he was playin’ cards with shot him: big man with a black beard.”
“According to my friend Jed, black beard was the leader of the gang.”
The sheriff scratched his jaw. “Maybe they were having a difference of opinion about the money they stole from your friend,” he mused.
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Titus agreed. “Well at least that’s one down,” he finished.
“You gonna stay around a bit?” the sheriff asked.
“No, I’ll be trailing along. I’m not stopping until all those men are captured.”
“I hope you know how to use that side iron then son,” the sheriff said seriously. “From the accounts I heard the man with the black beard was deadly quick with a gun.”
Titus looked at the pistol on his hip, he’d hardly had any time to practice with it, but he’d been able to hit everything he’d aimed at so far.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, stretching out a hand to the sheriff. “Thanks for all of your help.”
Chapter 9
TITUS WAS INTO THE canyon lands now, and the air was cooler, but he knew that the further he went, the less likely he would be to actually find the men who’d attacked Old Jed.
He was amazed by the area he was now traveling through; full of mesas, canyons, washes, and trees; the harsh reds, golds, and whites of the rock contrasting drastically with the deep greens of the tall pines as he climbed higher and higher into unknown territory.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever been through the area before. Not knowing where he’d come from or what he’d experienced in his life left him curious about everything, but the landscape didn’t trigger any memories or bring about flashes of revelations.
At the edge of a rise he pitched his camp, by a little field, staking his horse and the mule out on the spring grass and watching as storm clouds rolled in.
Moving his bedroll back under the canopy of the pines he settled in for a wet night and started a small fire.
The coffee pot was just starting to bubble when a voice echoed off the rocks behind him and he dropped his hand to his pistol.
“Hello the camp,” a man’s voice called. “I got me two rabbits if you’ll share the fire.”
Titus stood, easing his stance and gestured for the stranger to join him.
“Much obliged,” a man of medium height and build said, as he flipped his long blonde hair from his eyes. “Bailey,” he offered awkwardly, “names Bailey Robins.” He held out a hand and Titus shook it.
“Welcome Bailey,” Titus said as he took a seat on an old log. “What brings you out this way?”
“Passin’ through,” Bailey said. “I’ve been traipsin’ through these parts for weeks. Huntin’, trappin’, whatever I feel like doin’.”
Titus dug the tin cup from his saddle bags filling it with coffee and handing it to his companion.
“Oh, the nectar of the gods,” Bailey sighed closing his eyes and taking a sip. “I’ve been out of coffee for two whole weeks,” he said. “Ever since some no good sidewinders stole my horse.”
“You get a good look at them?” Titus asked curiously.
Bailey shook his head, his dark eyes tense, “No but I know that
horse’s track like the back of my hand and sooner or later I’ll catch up.”
Titus nodded. “You’ve been tracking them on foot?”
“Best I can. They left with ‘bout all the gear I own. I’d been out huntin’,” he indicated the rifle he’d propped against a tree, “and when I came down with a brace of quail in hand, my whole camp was just gone.”
“You never got a glimpse of the men who did it?”
“No, but there was two of ‘em. They had a horse, but must have been riding double because I only saw the one set of tracks.”
“I’m lookin’ for a couple of men who robbed a friend of mine,” Titus said carefully. “Could be the same ones. How long ago did this happen?”
“About a week ago.” Bailey said finishing his coffee and handing the mug back to Titus. “I’ve been on their trail ever since, but I have to take time to feed myself.” He hefted the rabbits on the rawhide snare they were tethered to.
“Well you share your rabbits, and I’ll share what I’ve got,” Titus said. “Tomorrow we’ll ride on out if you can manage a pack saddle.”
“It’ll do,” Bailey said, pulling a long knife and skinning the rabbits expertly. “I hope we catch up to them,” he said as he worked. “I have a few choice words to offer them skunks.” He finished with a wave of his bloodied knife.
Sunrise found Titus and Bailey mounted and heading toward a high mesa.
They’d started tracking Bailey’s horse at first light and were gaining ground, but with the outlaws having such a head start Titus wasn’t sure if they’d catch them.
“How long you been out here?” Titus asked Bailey as they started up a twisting trail that showed signs of heavy use by cows and ranch hands.
“Not long, I’ve been working my way through the states and territories trying to see what’s about. My Pa and me come from Kentucky when I was small, but with him gone, I didn’t feel I needed to stay put.”
Titus wondered about the man’s tale. He couldn’t even remember if he still had a father, or mother, or even siblings.
“You been tracking these men long?” Bailey asked, pulling him from his musings.
“It’ll be a month soon.” Titus acknowledged. “They jumped an old prospector friend of mine, and I’m determined to see them brought in for it.”
Bailey shook his head. The other man must have been in his early thirties but didn’t seem set on settling down.
“Well I’ll do all I can to help,” Bailey said. “Any man who’d steal a horse out in the wilderness, or jump and old man should be locked up for the rest of their life.”
Titus only nodded, giving his horse its head as it took the next switchback.
Chapter 10
“MOAB’S A LITTLE TOWN down along the river,” Bailey said as they continued their long trek. “I stopped down there on my way through. Maybe they’ll have heard something?”
Titus ran a hand over his jaw feeling the week’s worth of growth along his chin. “How about we follow the tracks a little further then if we don’t find anything, we’ll head back that way.”
“Sounds like a plan. Seems like a crazy place to be bringin’ cows all the way up there don’t it.”
Titus nodded, the plateau rose high above them into an azure sky. “Must be a good reason for it though.”
The sound of a rifle being cocked made both men pull rein as they looked up on the ridge above them.
“You fella’s lookin’ for work,” a dust covered cowboy asked his steely gaze as steady as his rifle.
“No sir,” Titus said lifting his hands a little as his horse came to a stop. “We’re tracking horse thieves and robbers.”
“Ride on up then, but mind yourself. Me and my boys are watching.”
Titus tipped his hat with his already raised hand then kicked his horse on up the final slope.
Making the last turn around a large boulder he gazed at the older man now squatting with his rifle by a branding fire.
“Step down,” the man said, “I’m Adler Pepper and these are my boys.”
Titus stepped from the saddle looking at the empty landscape and wondering who the man was talking to, but he didn’t have to wonder long as four mostly grown boys stepped out from areas of cover.
“Sit, sit.” Alder said. “We welcome anyone who’s not lookin’ to make a quick buck from our stock.”
Titus took a seat on a large rock as he boys made their way to the fire.
“Bailey’s the name.” Bailey spoke up, reaching a hand toward Alder, “been tracking some no good that stole my horse over toward Bryce.
Alder turned dark eyes on Titus. “Seems Bailey and me are tracking the same no good fellows. They jumped an old prospector friend of mine down in Nevada, and I’m set on bringin’ them in.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tin star. “Sheriff down that way deputized me when he saw I wouldn’t be turned away.”
Alder reached for a cup filling it and handing it to Bailey then gesturing for one of his boys to give him another cup. “We’ve got a fair few bad men what comes along this way,” the man said. “Been outlaws hiding down in the maze off and on for a long time.”
His boys looked at him wondering what he’d say next. “Some are just men who’ve fallen on bad times and are trying to make out the best they can, others are about as rotten as they come. Any man who’d beat an old fella up has got to be pretty low.”
“That’s how I see it,” Titus said sipping his coffee. “Old Jed took me in when I didn’t know which way was up and those men left him for dead.”
“Pa?” A boy of about fifteen spoke up. “We seen a couple fella’s headin’ down into the maze we ain’t never seen before.”
Alder shot his son a look then nodded. “Tell us what they looked like,” he finally said giving his son a nod.
“One was bigger and had a bushy beard as black as midnight; the other was short and round shouldered, kinda brown hair.”
Titus nodded. “Old Jed said the leader had a big black beard and a nasty temperament.”
Alder rubbed a hand down his shirt his eyes studying the two strangers.
“Son, I don’t have much time for the law way up here at the Island in the Sky, but I’ll tell ya a place to look for these two men.” His dark eyes raked over Titus and Bailey. “Just don’t go gettin’ all het up and snagging anyone else down to the maze; agreed?”
Titus shifted on his boulder and nodded, there was more going on here than he understood.
“See it’s mighty hard to run cows up and down this mesa,” Alder began. “There’s dangers on the trail, bad weather, and plenty of horse thieves and rustlers.” He stopped looking to his boys who nodded. “Sometimes you come on things out chasin’ cows that aren’t none of your business, and you find yourself in a pickle.”
Titus looked at Bailey wondering what the man was getting to.
“Sometimes you need a few extra fellas that can help get the cows down to the valley for winter, and you don’t look too mighty close at their past.”
Titus grinned getting an idea of what the man was about.
“Time or two me and the boys might ‘a come across some fellas that maybe took what weren’t theirs, maybe we figured that’s none of our business, but a hand or two extra to see we get all the stock down safe is worth our silence if you get my drift.”
“I reckon making a living out here isn’t easy,” Titus agreed. “I’m not much interested in anyone I’m not lookin’ for, but I’ll be taking those no good men that robbed Old Jed to the law one way or another.”
Alder smiled, “I’m with you on that.” He grinned, “Just don’t leave us short when you light out of the maze.”
After a meal of beans and biscuits Titus and Bailey mounted up with a quick picture of a few prime canyons in the maze where their query might be hiding.
“Good hunting fella’s,” Alder said offering his hand then watching the two men ride off.
Chapter 11
“MAKES SENSE DON’T I
T.” Bailey said as he trotted along behind Titus. “Ranchers can get some work out of fella’s riding the wrong side of the law just for keepin’ quiet.”
“I guess it does,” Titus agreed. “Of course you don’t really know what you’re dealing with, and these men might just as easily rob you blind as help.”
“True, but it’s a harsh land. Can’t be easy making a living out here?”
“No I don’t suppose it is,” Titus continued. “Still I can’t see takin’ what a man’s worked for and thinking that’s alright.”
He lifted his eyes to the canyon walls as his horse picked its way along the sandy bottom and a vision of rich dark soil and wheat seemed to swim before his eyes.
Titus pulled his horse up short stopping to rub the vision from his mind as he squeezed his eyes tight.
“You okay Titus?” Bailey asked.
“Yes.” Titus said, though his voice still held doubts, “just a memory.”
Bailey nodded as if that was enough explanation for him. “We all get that sometimes. One minute we’re mindin’ our own business, and the next, we’re thinking about a past life.” He chuckled as if sharing this wisdom held a joke only he knew.
Together the men rode until darkness blotted out the trail then they found a low rise and made camp.
“I surely hope we find these rascals soon,” Bailey said laying out his bed roll. “I had my saddle good and broke in already.”
Titus chuckled, even with the items from the packs redistributed between both mounts and heavy blankets padding the wooden supports of the pack saddle, he didn’t envy Bailey his ride.
“Mighty quiet down here,” Bailey mused as he climbed into his blankets. “Makes a man ponder his existence.”
Titus listened wondering what the man would say next. Bailey was often philosophical as he talked of nature.
“God’s country my pa used to say. He liked seeing things, travelin’ knowing how things worked.”
