There was the scent of pines, of course, but there was also the faint aroma of lilacs in bloom.
SIXTEEN
They saw the thin plume of blue-gray smoke before they reached the wide trail leading down into Wild Horse Valley. As the three riders approached the edge of the plain that formed a ridge above the valley, they could smell the faint tang of burning hide and heard the squeal of a horse.
“Looks like we hit pay dirt,” Joe said.
“We’ll know soon enough when we look down into that valley,” Brad said.
They reached the top of the ridge and looked down into the lush valley below. To their amazement, there were hundreds of horses and more grass than they had seen in a long while.
Columbines bloomed on the hillside below them. The light breeze jostled their delicate petals and wafted their aroma to the riders. Yellow-winged butterflies danced on invisible waves and flitted onto flowers and sage. Below, they saw two men around a hot fire. One was holding a haltered horse while the other was wielding a branding iron. Both men looked up at the three riders.
“Uh-oh,” Joe said, “they’ve spotted us. What do we do now?”
“Wave at them,” Brad said. “Wave like you were real friendly.”
He raised his hand and waved at the two men at the branding fire. Julio waved, too. Joe hesitated and finally gave a desultory wave.
“I don’t get it,” Joe said.
“A friendly wave puts them at ease. Now we can ride down and talk to them.”
“Unless they shoot us first,” Joe said.
“They might think we’re new blood,” Brad said. “Working for Killdeer.”
“Sometimes, Brad, it’s really hard to follow your thinking.”
“Uh-huh. Sometimes it’s even hard for me to follow.”
Brad urged Ginger forward, and the three of them rode slowly down the steep slope. Brad kept his gaze locked onto the two men, who continued to perform their branding tasks. The horse that was getting the hot iron humped up its back and lashed out with both hind legs. The man holding the rope jerked down on the halter and bowed the horse’s head. A small puff of smoke arose from the horse’s hip.
“I don’t look for gunplay,” Brad said, “but be ready in case things go haywire.”
“They’re both packin’ six-guns,” Joe said.
“Probably in case they run across a rattler,” Brad said.
Joe opened his mouth, but clamped it shut as if he had thought about a retort and decided against it.
“Howdy, fellas,” Brad said as the three of them rode up on the two branders.
“Howdy,” Wilbur Campbell said in a pleasant tone of voice.
Jack Trask scowled as he buried the business end of the running iron deep into the pulsating bed of glowing coals.
“You come down from Cheyenne?” Campbell asked.
“No, we rode in from Denver,” Brad said.
“Denver? Well, I declare,” Campbell said.
“Wil, you shut your mouth,” Trask said. “We don’t know who these fellers are.”
Brad shifted his gaze to Trask.
“Who do we have to be?” Brad asked.
“Unless you work for Jordan, you have to be gone from here,” Trask said.
He stepped away from the fire ring and spread his legs apart. His right hand floated above the butt of his pistol.
“So, you must work for Jordan Killdeer,” Brad said, a faint smile breaking on his face.
“If he sent you, mister, you’d know that,” Trask said.
“In a way, Jordan did send us,” Brad said.
Trask’s hand opened and dipped down closer to his pistol.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Trask asked.
“Oh, Jack, you ask too many questions. They work for Jordan or they wouldn’t be here,” Campbell said.
“I ain’t so sure. You didn’t answer my question, mister,” Trask said.
“Well, we’re looking for horses and it looks like you got plenty here,” Brad said.
“We don’t sell ’em,” Trask said. “We just keep ’em here to graze.”
“Are those running irons you got in that fire?” Brad asked.
Trask’s hand dipped and his fingers wrapped around the butt of his .45.
Brad drew his pistol in that instant and all could hear the snick of the hammer as he cocked it back.
“Jack,” Brad said, “if that iron leaves its holster, your lamp goes out real quick.”
Campbell swore under his breath.
Trask stiffened and froze, the pistol fully in his grip but still in its holster.
“What the hell?” Trask said.
Joe and Julio drew their pistols. They cocked them and aimed them at the two men.
“Drop your gun belts,” Brad ordered.
“Jesus,” Campbell said. He unbuckled his gun belt and dropped the rig to the ground.
Trask twitched, his hand still on the butt of his gun.
“Make it quick, Jack,” Brad said. “I got a hair trigger on this Colt.”
“Shit,” Trask said, but he lifted his hand and began to unbuckle his gun belt.
“What’s this all about?” Wilbur asked. “Who are you fellers?”
“Keep your guns on them, Joe,” Brad said. He swung out of the saddle and walked over to Trask. He kicked his gun belt a foot away, then turned on Campbell and bent down to pick up his gun belt. He dropped it next to Trask’s.
“Step out, Jack, and keep your hands high. You,” he said to Campbell, “take that halter off that horse and hand it over.”
“Jesus,” Campbell said again. But he did as he was told while Trask stepped closer to Joe and Julio.
“Light down, Joe,” Brad said. “Julio, you keep them covered.”
Joe slipped out of the saddle.
“What are you going to do, Brad?” Joe asked.
“It’s what you’re going to do, Joe.”
“Me?” Joe said.
“Dig out your braces, Joe, and clamp this man’s hands behind his back,” Brad said.
“Handcuffs?”
“Yeah, handcuffs.”
“All right. They’re in my saddlebag.”
“Cuff him up,” Brad said.
“You the law?” Trask asked.
“You might say that,” Brad replied. “We’re detectives and we work with the law. I’m arresting you for horse stealing.”
“I didn’t steal none of these horses,” Trask said.
Campbell handed the rope and the halter to Brad.
“That’s right,” Campbell said. “We didn’t steal no horses from nobody.”
“Tell it to the judge,” Joe said as he returned with two pair of handcuffs. He stuck one set in his back pocket, then stepped up to Trask. He spun him around and jerked both arms so that his hands were behind his back. He clamped cuffs on both the man’s wrists.
The horse they had just branded whirled and trotted back to the herd.
There was a whicker from somewhere in a nearby clutch of horses.
Brad looked toward the sound and narrowed his eyes.
The horse whickered again, and he saw movement as one of them started toward him.
“Rose,” he said. “Come here, girl.”
The bay mare broke away from the other horses and walked toward him. Her head swayed from side to side and hung inches from the ground.
“Come on, Rose,” he said as he stepped toward the horse.
“That is the horse of Felicity,” Julio said.
“His wife’s horse?” Joe said, slightly aghast.
“Yes,” Julio said.
Rose walked up to Brad. He rubbed her forehead and patted her neck. He spoke to her in baby talk. Then he walked around to her rump and looked at the brand.
&
nbsp; Rose neighed softly as he returned and stroked her head with a gentle hand.
“Joe,” Brad said, “here’s the proof you need. Rose’s brand has been switched with a running iron. Looks like you caught the criminals red-handed.”
“Me?” Joe said.
“Come over here, Joe. Julio, you watch ’em.”
“I will shoot them both if they try to run,” Julio said.
Joe walked over as Brad slipped the halter over Rose’s head. He patted her topknot as he adjusted it. He handed the end of the rope to Joe.
“You got something on your mind, Brad?” Joe said. “I wish you’d let me in on it.”
“I want you to take that feller named Jack back to Denver and lock him up. I want you to take Rose with you as proof. And be sure to pack those running irons with you.”
“Just me?” Joe asked.
“Just you, Joe. I’m going to make the other one take me up to Cheyenne to deliver a message to Killdeer.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I figure the other feller might be more obliging than Jack there.”
“How do you know that other feller won’t double-cross you?”
“I don’t,” Brad said. “But if does, I’ll kill him.”
“You don’t know what he’ll do, Brad.”
“Oh, I can figure a man pretty close, Joe. Besides, we have a long ride ahead of us and I can be pretty persuasive when I set my mind to it.”
“I’ll grant you that.”
“Meanwhile, when you get to Denver, put all the names down that we know and charge them with horse stealing.”
“But . . .”
“Tell the judge we have proof and witnesses. Harry will make sure the charges stick.”
“I don’t know,” Joe said. “It looks pretty ragtag to me.”
Brad walked back toward Trask and Campbell. Rose followed as he tugged on the lead rope.
“It’ll all work out. Meet me back here in about a week and a half. Julio and I will be waiting for you.”
Joe spoke to Campbell.
“What’s your full name?” he asked.
“Wilbur Campbell. You going to arrest me, too?”
“No, I’m not going to arrest you, but I’m going to give Brad here a set of handcuffs you can wear when you go with him up north.”
Joe slipped the set of handcuffs from his back pocket and handed them to Brad.
“Thanks, Joe,” Brad said. “I might not need them. Mr. Campbell here won’t want to run away because he knows I’ll shoot him dead if he tries it.”
Campbell’s face went pale as if all the blood had fled to his toes. He gulped a dollop of air.
“Where do you keep your saddles and bridles?” Brad asked.
“Yonder in them trees where the creek runs,” Campbell said. “There’s a little log shed we put up that’s got all our tack.”
“And a wagon?” Brad asked.
“We got two wagons,” Campbell said. “Same place, where the creek comes in from the bluffs.”
“Good,” Brad said.
“What’s this about ridin’ up north?” Campbell asked.
“Why, you and I and Julio are going to Cheyenne and pay Jordan Killdeer a visit. You’ve been there, haven’t you?”
Campbell nodded.
“You know where Killdeer lives, too, don’t you, Wilbur?”
“Yeah. I know where he lives, and I know where he works, both on his ranch and his gambling hall.”
“Wil, you talk too damned much,” Trask said. “Keep your mouth shut.”
“Jack, if you open your mouth once more, I’ll whop you with the barrel of my gun,” Brad said. “What’s your full name, by the way?”
“John Trask. People call me Jack.”
Brad turned to Julio.
“Julio,” he said, “you and Wilbur catch up a couple of horses for these fellers. Put saddles on them and then come back here.”
“We got our own horses,” Campbell said. “They’s in a corral in back of the little cabin where we keep our tack.”
“That’ll do,” Brad said.
“Jordan will kill you if you show up in Cheyenne,” Trask said. He watched Julio and Wilbur walk toward the stand of timber below the bluffs where the creek entered the meadow.
“That’ll be pretty hard for him to do, Trask,” Brad said.
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Because Jordan is never going to see me in Cheyenne. The first time we meet, it’ll be right here in Wild Horse Valley.”
Joe’s mouth dropped.
Trask looked puzzled.
“And, the next time you see me, Trask, I’ll be looking up at you standing under a rope on the gallows.”
“You won’t ever make it back to this valley if you go up to Cheyenne,” Trask said.
“I wouldn’t bet on it, Trask. Do you know who you’re talkin’ to?”
“Some no-account detective, I reckon,” Trask said.
“Yeah. He’s a detective all right. But he’s known in these parts as the Sidewinder. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”
Brad slipped a hand inside his shirt and shook his rattles.
Joe and Trask both jumped. Trask’s face turned bone white and his knees gave way. He staggered to regain his footing.
Brad smiled and gripped the rattle to silence it. Rose whickered and bobbed her head as she pawed the ground with her right hoof.
SEVENTEEN
Julio and Joe lifted Jack Trask into the saddle of the horse he was to ride into Denver.
“Just to make sure you don’t try to escape, Trask,” Joe said, “I’m going to make sure.”
Trask sat in the saddle with his wrists encased in handcuffs behind his back. He glared at Joe with bitter hatred flashing in his eyes.
Joe cut a length of manila rope and lashed Trask’s feet together under the horse’s belly. He made sure that the rope was knotted tight. He tugged on it and was satisfied that the rope wasn’t so tight as to cut off circulation in Trask’s legs.
“There you go, Trask,” he said. “Of course if the horse bolts at the sight of a bear or cougar you could break your neck, but you’re not going to jump out of the saddle on our ride down to Denver.”
“You bastard,” Trask snarled.
“Look who’s calling who what,” Joe said, then turned away before Trask could say anything more.
He walked over to the branding fire and kicked two rocks loose from the ring. He pulled the running irons from the coals and then kicked dirt onto the fire to put it out. He went to his horse and lifted a canteen of water from his saddle horn. He poured water on the hot irons. They hissed and turned black as they cooled.
Brad came over to Joe and took him aside to whisper in his ear.
“If you ride back up here in a week and a half, Joe, and I’m not here, you make camp up on that ridge and wait for me.”
“Maybe you better make it two weeks, just in case,” Joe said.
“When I finish my business in Cheyenne, I’m going to wear out leather getting back down here. Julio and I will have a lot to do.”
“So, a week and a half, you say?”
“Two weeks at the outside,” Brad said.
“All right. If I see no sign of you, I’ll camp up in the timber at the top of the ridge and wait for you. Where the road comes in.”
“Perfect,” Brad said. “Good luck in Denver.”
Joe picked up the running irons and wrapped them in his bedroll. He secured them behind his cantle and tied the roll down with leather thongs drawn tight to hold it in place.
“It’s goin’ to take some tall talkin’, but I’ll see that Jack gets locked up and your horse entered in evidence. I’ll also give a deposition and name the witnesses we have so far.”
“And see if you can g
et arrest warrants for Killdeer, Curly, and Nels.”
“I can do that, but we don’t need ’em,” Joe said.
“If you, Julio, and I get killed, the U.S. marshal can execute those warrants,” Brad said.
“Hell, I didn’t think of that, Brad. Maybe you are a genuine detective at that.”
Brad smiled. “I try,” he said.
“Well, so long, Brad. I hope your latest plan works.”
“If it doesn’t, we’ll all be in a heck of a fix.”
Joe climbed into the saddle and pulled on the lead rope attached to the bridle on Trask’s horse. Brad watched the two men ride to the road at the end of the valley. He kept looking at them as they cleared the rim and disappeared from sight.
A few minutes later, Julio and Wilbur emerged from the timber leading a saddled horse.
When they walked up, Brad pulled Campbell aside.
“Maybe you’re wondering why I didn’t have you locked up, Wilbur,” he said.
“I reckon because you still need me to show you where Jordan Killdeer hangs his hat.”
“That’s part of it.”
“What’s the rest of it?” Wilbur asked.
“I figure you’re just a down-and-out cowboy or horse wrangler. You don’t seem to be cut from the same bolt of cloth as Trask, or Abel, Curly, and Nels.”
“I ain’t. All I was told was that I would be herdin’ horses and might have to do some illegal brand changin’. I was flat broke and had worked for Killdeer on his ranch as a wrangler. Job petered out and he asked me if I’d come down here with Trask and tend stock.”
Brad gestured to Julio.
Julio walked over to the two men.
“Julio, I want you and Wilbur here to count all the horses in the valley. Take your time and split ’em up if you have to. Julio, look for our horses and tell me how many have their brands altered. Wilbur, you double-check the tally.”
“We must do this on the horse,” Julio said. “Do you trust this man not to ride away?”
“I’ll have my rifle handy, Julio. If Wilbur makes a break for the skyline, we’ll have an extra horse in the string.”
Julio grinned.
“I won’t run off,” Wilbur said.
“Get to it. Julio, take my little tablet and make an accurate tally. I need to know how many head are quartered here.”
Nest of Vipers (9781101613283) Page 9
