“Damn,” Kinman said. “That’s a hell of a draw for a man with no fingers.”
“Years of practice. Would you like to test my aim as well?”
“No,” Kinman replied as he opened his hand and let his gun drop into its holster. “Not just yet.”
“I did what I came to do, but you’re right about one thing. I don’t like the thought of Lester or his cousins running around with what belongs in that grave with Barrett. The reason I kept you alive and moving is because I’m pretty sure you can track Lester down without too much trouble. You’d get to a weapon sooner or later, so I figured I’d cut out that dance so we can get down to business.”
“I would’ve had a much better time if you hadn’t stayed here to fill in that hole.”
“Then maybe you’re not as useful as I thought.”
There wasn’t the first hint of panic on Kinman’s face as he held up a hand and motioned for Nick to stay put. In fact, the bounty hunter seemed a bit weary as he nodded and said, “I can track him down. That won’t be a problem. But why should I?”
“And you said I was the one wasting time?”
“Unless I’m getting something out of it, I’d be wasting time in tracking that asshole down when I could save the effort and drop you right here and now.”
Nick squared off with Kinman to make sure the bounty hunter could see the holster that had been repositioned across his belly. “You could sure as hell try.”
The two men stared at each other for a few seconds as the tension in the air shifted from cold to hot. Finally, Nick was the one to break the silence.
“You were after Lester at the start, right?”
Kinman nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then you can have him. The price on his head must have been worth the trouble of coming after him and dragging him all the way back to Texas.”
Although Kinman didn’t try to deny that, he wasn’t about to give Nick any encouragement, either.
“His cousins must be wanted, too,” Nick continued. “At the very least, there’s got to be one or two of them that have prices on their heads. Any group of thieves who are good enough to stay out of jail must have worked up some sort of bounty between them.”
“True.”
“When we find them, they’re all yours.”
“What about the Reaper’s Fee?” Kinman asked. “I’d be earning a cut of that, too.”
“I’ll pay you five hundred dollars on top of whatever bounty you collect.”
“Make it a thousand.”
Nick narrowed his eyes and finally nodded. Before he could agree to it, Kinman spoke again.
“Two thousand,” the bounty hunter snapped. “A shitload of jewels has gotta be worth plenty more than that.”
“Sure,” Nick said slyly. “If you can find a jeweler to buy them who doesn’t already know they’re stolen. After all this time, there’s a list of those jewels posted in every shop that’s carrying enough money to pay you off. Anyone else might just turn in whoever’s trying to sell that many stolen jewels to collect the reward being offered for their return.” Raising his eyebrows, Nick added, “It’s not always fun to be on the other end of those rewards, now, is it?”
Kinman nodded and let out a sigh. “You’re a sly one, Graves. No wonder I could never catch up to you all these years.”
“How’s fifteen hundred?” Nick asked.
“Sixteen.”
“Deal.”
Kinman offered his hand, but Nick didn’t make a move to shake it.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Nick said.
“Come on, now. After all the fun we had in Rock Springs, you can’t trust me enough to shake my hand?”
“That was before you shot at me.”
“That was also before you were told what I do for a living.”
“I knew about that back in Wyoming,” Nick said. “I wouldn’t have made it this long if I couldn’t pick out a bounty hunter on sight.”
“All right,” Kinman replied, his hand still extended. “But shake it anyway. I can’t have you going back on our deal due to some outlaw’s loophole.”
Nick stepped forward so that his right hand could reach out and grasp Kinman’s. His body remained in a sideways stance as his left hand stayed within a few inches of his pistol. When he shook Kinman’s hand, Nick kept his eyes locked on the bounty hunter. Although every muscle in his arm was ready to draw the modified Schofield, Nick wasn’t given an excuse to follow through. The handshake was made and the deal was sealed.
“You’re not planning on double-crossing me, now, are you?” Kinman asked.
Nick shrugged and stepped back. “I don’t know. Are you planning to drag me in no matter how things turn out with Lester?”
Both men glared at each other uneasily, but neither gave an answer. Both of them already had all the answers they needed.
TWENTY-TWO
Despite all his cursing and fuming when Lester had gotten away, Kinman would have been lying if he’d said that the escape came as a surprise. He’d dragged more than his share of prisoners from one place to another to know that every last one of them, no matter what they said or did, would always try to escape. It was human nature. It was the impulse that had put the prices on their heads in the first place.
Kinman had his tricks to keep prisoners in line, the least of which were the knots that kept their hands and feet bound to their saddles. One of the simplest and most effective of his tricks was to mark the horse being used by the prisoner when they were asleep or otherwise indisposed.
In Lester’s case, Kinman had spent a bit of time on the first night they’d made camp chipping various patterns into two of the shoes worn by Lester’s horse. All it took was a good knife and some quiet time, and Kinman carved a few marks that would show up just fine in the horse’s tracks. One thing that always surprised Kinman was just how many times this trick had worked over the years. Then again, it was an outlaw’s nature to charge forward without ever bothering to look back.
After putting on a bit of a show working to pick up Lester’s trail, Kinman followed it down a steep ridge that could very well have broken the necks of both horse and rider with one misstep. After what appeared to be a lot of slipping and sliding, Lester’s tracks took off in one direction.
“He’s headed south,” Kinman said.
Nick rode behind and to Kinman’s left. “That’s the only way he could have gone.”
“You want to do the tracking, you be my guest.”
Nick responded by dramatically waving Kinman along.
They didn’t hit a snag until Lester’s prints met up with some others that looked to have been set down within the last few days. Although the other tracks were older, there were enough of them crossing back and forth across Lester’s to make Kinman stop and climb down from his saddle so he could take a closer look.
“Looks like the Sioux pass through here quite a bit,” Nick said from his saddle.
Kinman didn’t take his eyes off the ground as he grumbled, “No shit.”
“What was that?”
“What else do you know about the Sioux around here?” Kinman asked as a way to steer the conversation into more fruitful territory. “You seemed to know all about their villages and burial grounds.”
“I only know what I needed to know to keep from getting killed.”
“You spoke their language.”
“Not too much,” Nick admitted, “but just enough. Where’d you catch up with Lester?”
“I roped him in Oregon.”
“He ran that far after stealing a horse in Texas?”
Kinman nodded. “Never steal a horse from a Texan. They tend to take it a bit more personal than most. I think I found Lester’s tracks,” Kinman said, even though he’d spotted the specially marked prints some time ago. “He’s still heading south and it looks as if he’s picking up speed.”