Slocum 394 : Slocum and the Fool's Errand (9781101545980) by Jake Logan Page A

tracks in this mud. If the rain came before you were attacked, they may have been put down when the pack passed here before meeting up with you. Or it could have been some other pack. It’s not like there’s a shortage of coyotes around here.”
    â€œNo,” Jack said sharply. “These are the same hellhounds that got to me. I know it.”
    â€œHellhounds?” Slocum chuckled. “I thought them being wolves was pushing it.”
    â€œLaugh all you want. I know these are the tracks we’re after because it was raining when I started walking into town to get to that doctor. Makes sense for them to have gone into the cave for shelter that night because it was pouring! Then they came by here to drink before heading off again.”
    â€œThat might explain why you got far enough away for them to lose interest before running you down and finishing you off.”
    Jack snapped his fingers. “I just thought of something! We can also look for blood spilled on the ground.”
    â€œYours?”
    â€œNo! I was shooting at them. Sure it was raining, but I was also shooting at them when they tried to come at me again. I emptied a whole cylinder firing at those monsters and had to hit something.”
    Slocum had his doubts about that. Not only was Jack panicked, but he was most likely not using his right hand to hold his gun. His left hand would have been unfamiliar and shaky. Even under the best conditions, he doubted anyone could hit a moving target with a cobbled-together firearm like the one hanging on Jack’s hip. Rather than piss on the other man’s fire any more than he already had, Slocum said, “It’s most likely the blood was washed away.”
    â€œAhh. You’re probably right about that. But those are the tracks! They’re fresh enough, and if there were that many coyotes or wolves around here, odds are some of them would have taken a run at me between here and that town.”
    â€œNow there’s a good point. Some of the tracks lead toward your camp, but others head to the east.”
    â€œYou sure about that?”
    â€œAs sure as I can be. Again, you don’t trust my judgment, you’re more than capable of hiring someone else for the job.”
    â€œNo, I trust you, John. I just didn’t think we’d actually have a chance in hell of catching those things. What that animal took from me is mighty valuable. Looks like I may actually see it again.”
    â€œDon’t get excited yet. We just started this ride and could lose those dogs anywhere along the way.” Since his horse was already there, Slocum waited for it to stop drinking and then climbed into the saddle. “It’s your ring that was swallowed, so you’re the one that’ll sift through any of the scat we find.”
    â€œYou think it would’ve worked its way out so soon? I mean . . . something that size should be lodged inside of that beast for a while, right?”
    Slocum shrugged. “I’ve learned plenty of things in my years of doing odd jobs and riding from one side of this country to the other. The time it takes for a piece of metal to work its way through a wolf’s ass isn’t one of them.”
    â€œAll right, then. I’ll do the dirty work.” Jack climbed into his saddle, which was much more of an ordeal than it had been for Slocum. Although, considering it had been less than a day since his fingers had gone missing, he seemed to be compensating for them pretty well.
    â€œYou sure you’re up for this?” Slocum asked. “You’re looking a little green around the gills.”
    Jack started to nod, wavered for a moment, leaned over to vomit, but only managed a few dry heaves before sitting up again. “I’m fine. Don’t ask again. Makes me think about it too much.”
    Slocum surveyed the terrain from the slightly higher position atop his horse. “Animals like this won’t leave a steady