were known men, both of them had been involved in shootings. With them would be at least six others, all used to fighting for whatever they got. Until now they had confined their raids to the big outfits where weeks might go by before a tally showed that stock was missing. Apparently Tom Galway's stock had been too much of a temptation, and Galway was new in the Ruby Creek country. In the three or four years he had lived there he had kept out of trouble. He had been a hard worker, and obviously a top hand with horses.
Walking to his horse Galway took two strips of rawhide from his saddlebags and tied his gun down to his thigh. Then he took out another gun belt and holster and, after strapping it on, tied it down also. It was the first time Piute had ever seen a man wear two guns, although he had heard of such things.
Piute studied Galway. He was a lean, brown man, tanned by sun and wind. There was a scar over one eye and another along the jawbone. Piute turned his horse and started upstream. Galway cantered until beside him.
"There's timber along the stream," he said, "fiftyyards from the cabin. If they open fire we'll take cover there."
Piute couldn't quite make up 'his mind about Galway. He glanced at the younger man but saw no signs of nervousness or excitement. No more than if he was going after a bunch of cows.
His mind turned to other things. Maybe Galway was right. Maybe he did need a woman. It was lonely there in the cabin in the creek. He was a healthy man, forty years old now, and he had a nice bunch of cattle and a few head of horses. The ranch was doing well, if they didn't start rustling this side of the creek. He figured he could make a wife comfortable, and he wasn't a cantankerous sort.
The creek turned west and they entered the canyon. There was a narrow opening lined with aspen and a few spruce. The trees fell back and the two men cantered over the meadow toward the cabin. It was a squat, stone cabin with a corral almost directly behind it in which Galway could see his horses. Near the stone cabin were three other horses, ground-hitched.
Pulling up about a dozen yards from the door, two men came out, followed by a third and a fourth. The first was Gorman, the second Robbins. The other two Galway did not know. The squat, bull-like figure of Digger Cassidy was nowhere to be seen.
"Howdy," Galway said casually. His eyes scanned their faces and settled on Gorman. "Where's Digger?"
"What d' you want with him?" Robbins demanded belligerently.
"Shut up, Robbins I" Gorman spoke sharply. "Ill do the talking."
He looked at Galway, then at Piute Bill, whose paint had been stopped about ten feet behind and well to the right of Galway. "What do you want?"
"I think Digger made a mistake." Galway spoke gently. "He drove off twenty head of horses for me. Nice meadow here, but I'd rather have them close to home. Thought I'd just ride over and drive them back."
"You thought what?" Robbing' face flushed red. "Just who--I"
"Shut up I" Gorman said impatiently.
There was something here he did not like, and Gorman had pursued a long outlaw career by being cautious. Only two men, and they looked like fighters. Piute Bill he knew about, and he was no man to trifle with.
The other man, a stranger, seemed to be taking the lead, and his quiet, confident manner disturbed Gorman.
"You'll have to talk to Cassidy," Gorman suggested. "He's the boss."
"I know," Galway replied, "but I can't wait. You tell Cassidy that Tom Galway came for his horses. He'll understand."
"You know Cassidy?"
"I do. What's more, Digger knows me. You tell him I came for my horses. If he wants me for anything, I'll be at my cabin. Tell him to come whenever he's ready ... day or night."
He did not turn his head but spoke to Piute. "Kick those corral bars down, Bill. We can't stay long."
Robbins had enough. He stepped forward. "You keep your hands off that corral," he said, "and you, Galway! You get goin' while you're able!"
Gorman was in a
Walking to his horse Galway took two strips of rawhide from his saddlebags and tied his gun down to his thigh. Then he took out another gun belt and holster and, after strapping it on, tied it down also. It was the first time Piute had ever seen a man wear two guns, although he had heard of such things.
Piute studied Galway. He was a lean, brown man, tanned by sun and wind. There was a scar over one eye and another along the jawbone. Piute turned his horse and started upstream. Galway cantered until beside him.
"There's timber along the stream," he said, "fiftyyards from the cabin. If they open fire we'll take cover there."
Piute couldn't quite make up 'his mind about Galway. He glanced at the younger man but saw no signs of nervousness or excitement. No more than if he was going after a bunch of cows.
His mind turned to other things. Maybe Galway was right. Maybe he did need a woman. It was lonely there in the cabin in the creek. He was a healthy man, forty years old now, and he had a nice bunch of cattle and a few head of horses. The ranch was doing well, if they didn't start rustling this side of the creek. He figured he could make a wife comfortable, and he wasn't a cantankerous sort.
The creek turned west and they entered the canyon. There was a narrow opening lined with aspen and a few spruce. The trees fell back and the two men cantered over the meadow toward the cabin. It was a squat, stone cabin with a corral almost directly behind it in which Galway could see his horses. Near the stone cabin were three other horses, ground-hitched.
Pulling up about a dozen yards from the door, two men came out, followed by a third and a fourth. The first was Gorman, the second Robbins. The other two Galway did not know. The squat, bull-like figure of Digger Cassidy was nowhere to be seen.
"Howdy," Galway said casually. His eyes scanned their faces and settled on Gorman. "Where's Digger?"
"What d' you want with him?" Robbins demanded belligerently.
"Shut up, Robbins I" Gorman spoke sharply. "Ill do the talking."
He looked at Galway, then at Piute Bill, whose paint had been stopped about ten feet behind and well to the right of Galway. "What do you want?"
"I think Digger made a mistake." Galway spoke gently. "He drove off twenty head of horses for me. Nice meadow here, but I'd rather have them close to home. Thought I'd just ride over and drive them back."
"You thought what?" Robbing' face flushed red. "Just who--I"
"Shut up I" Gorman said impatiently.
There was something here he did not like, and Gorman had pursued a long outlaw career by being cautious. Only two men, and they looked like fighters. Piute Bill he knew about, and he was no man to trifle with.
The other man, a stranger, seemed to be taking the lead, and his quiet, confident manner disturbed Gorman.
"You'll have to talk to Cassidy," Gorman suggested. "He's the boss."
"I know," Galway replied, "but I can't wait. You tell Cassidy that Tom Galway came for his horses. He'll understand."
"You know Cassidy?"
"I do. What's more, Digger knows me. You tell him I came for my horses. If he wants me for anything, I'll be at my cabin. Tell him to come whenever he's ready ... day or night."
He did not turn his head but spoke to Piute. "Kick those corral bars down, Bill. We can't stay long."
Robbins had enough. He stepped forward. "You keep your hands off that corral," he said, "and you, Galway! You get goin' while you're able!"
Gorman was in a
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