"Round up as many men as you can," Sheriff Maxey said with a sigh. "I'll go saddle my horse. See how many men you can find with a backbone and a gun, then get your own horse saddled. You can show us which way they went. I sure as hell hope you're wrong about this."
"I ain't wrong, Sheriff. I got two good eyes." Dave Matthews turned for the door, then hesitated. "Seems like I seen another feller outside of town waitin' for them. He was way off, so I couldn't make out what he looked like, 'cept for just one thing."
"What was that one thing?"
"He was a Mexican. He was wearin' this big sombrero on his head, only it was pulled real low in front so I couldn't make out his face."
"How do you know he was with Huling?"
"They joined up about a quarter mile north of town an' took off for the mountains together. Conrad, he was riding this big sorrel in between 'em."
"Damn," Maxey mumbled, taking a box of cartridges from his desk drawer. "See how many possemen you can find and meet me at the livery."
Dave started out onto the boardwalk. "Poor ol' Conrad. It sure seems like he's had enough troubles, after what his daddy went through gettin' him back from Ned Pine an' Victor Vanbergen a few weeks ago."
Maxey nodded as he too started for the office door. "Conrad ain't like his murderin' pappy. That boy is gentle as a spring lamb. But Frank, he's a mean-assed hombre who ain't afraid of nobody. If Morgan gets word that somebody took his boy again, there'll be hell to pay. I sure as hell hope it don't happen in my town."
"I'll see how many men I can round up, Sheriff. Only don't count on our good citizens to swear in to make a posse goin' after Cletus Huling. If there's one man west of the Mississippi who's as good as Frank Morgan with a gun, it'll be that bastard Huling."
Maxey became irritated with his deputy's complaining. "Go fetch as many men as you can, Dave, an' you might want to leave out the part about it being Huling we're after. All you gotta say is that somebody grabbed Conrad again. That ought to be enough to get us a few volunteers, seeing as how everybody likes that boy."
Dave took off down the boardwalk carrying the Winchester. Sheriff Maxey locked his office door behind him.
It was the blackest of luck, to have Cletus Huling show up in Trinidad ... it was like finding a skunk under your bed, Maxey thought.
But with enough men they stood a chance of riding Huling down. Maxey had no idea who the Mexican in the sombrero might be, not in Colorado Territory. There were damn few Mexicans this far north, since it was common knowledge a Mexican didn't take to cold weather.
He made haste for the livery, reminding himself that he needed to bring a heavy coat and gloves since the high country north of Trinidad would still be cold, with the possibility of snow this time of year.
* * * *
Cletus halted on a pine-studded ridge to study their back trail. "Nobody followin' us yet," he said to Diego Ponce as they sat their horses.
Diego scanned the lowlands behind them. His badly scarred face seemed to remain in a permanent scowl. "I see no one," he said. "But they will come, if this whimpering boy is truly worth so much money."
" He is," Cletus assured him. "Our share of the take will be ten thousand in gold. An' if ol' Ned Pine an' Vanbergen don't play it straight with us, we'll kill 'em an' the boys who ride with 'em. That way, you an' me can split it between ourselves an' nobody'll be the wiser. Half the lawmen in Colorado Territory would just as soon see Pine an' Vanbergen dead anyhow. We'll be doin' folks a favor."
Diego tried for a smile. "I like that. That way, we will have it all."
Cletus glanced at Conrad. He had tied the boy's hands in front of him with a pigging string. Tears had formed in Conrad's eyes.
" This kid ain't gonna be no problem, but we've got to keep an eye out for his old man."
"You tell me his name is Frank Morgan. I never hear of him before."
"That's because you've been down in Mexico, Diego. If you'd spent any time north of the Rio Grande you'd know who Morgan is. A goddamn paid shootist, an' a damn good one. Only thing on our side is that he's gettin' a mite long in the tooth. I ain't sure how old he is, but he's old enough now to be a bit slower on the draw."
Diego chuckled. "The best way to kill a man who is quick on the draw is to get behind him. If this Senyor Morgan shows up, I will kill him myself."
"Don't kill him until he comes up with the ransom money for his kid," Cletus warned.
Conrad sniffled. "My father wouldn't pay a dime to have me set free. You men are wasting your time."
"Shut up, kid!" Cletus snapped. "Ned Pine said your old man would pay a ton of money to get you back. Fifty thousand dollars is what he said you was worth."
Conrad shook his head. "I hate my father. If you are counting on him to pay a ransom for me, I can assure you that it's a waste of time."
Diego glanced at Cletus.
"Don't pay no attention to this crybaby," Cletus said. "I know for a fact that Morgan has the money, an' that he'll pay it to get this snot-nose kid back."
"Whatever you say, Cletus," Diego said.
" Let's get headed north. Glenwood Springs is a hard three-day ride."
"Will they send a posse after the boy?" Diego inquired.
Cletus grinned, revealing rows of yellowed teeth. "If they do, we'll kill the sons of bitches an' be done with them. Just keep an eye behind us. It's time we covered some ground before it gets full dark."
"It is better if we do not have a fire when we make camp," Diego said.
"We ain't gonna make camp. We'll keep pushing these horses all night. Come sunrise, we'll find us a ranch someplace an' take fresh horses."
Diego turned his head north. "This is very empty country, _compadre_. What if there are no ranches where we can steal fresh horses?"
"We keep ridin' the ones we've got."
Diego reined his brown gelding off the ridge. "I do not like this place."
Cletus gave him a sour look. "Why the hell is that, Diego?" he asked, not really caring.
"Is too cold here," the Mexican _pistolero_ said. "Even a woman could not keep me warm on a night like this. Maybeso a bottle of tequila."
Cletus led the way up the ridge toward dark mountain silhouettes looming in the distance. He knew he'd made the right choice when he'd brought Diego Ponce with him to earn this high bounty. Ponce was half crazy, as good with a bowie knife as he was with a pistol or a rifle. And when it came to killing men, no matter who they might be, he had no remorse, no misgivings about spilling their blood.
* * * *
Diego trotted his horse up a steepening slope, catching up to Cletus and the boy.
"They come," Diego said softly. "I counted seven of them and they are using their horses very hard."
Cletus cast a look toward a narrow pass between mountains only a few hundred yards away. "We'll ambush the bastards here," he said. "It'll be a posse from Trinidad. Won't be a one of them who knows how to shoot."
"I will find a place to hide," Diego said, spurring his horse past Cletus and Conrad.
* * * *
Sheriff Maxey knew the trail was fresh. Every time he climbed down from the saddle he found crisp hoofprints made only hours ago.
"We're closing in on them, boys," he said. "Get your rifles and shotguns ready."