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part 3
Devil's Canyon was a three days ride North West of town. It was an unforgiving place in the summer time. The sun beat the clay until is lifted and curled in tiny plates. Water holes were sucked dry by the scorched land and nothing higher than tumble weeds thrived around the rim of the canyon. The canyon's sandy bottom lay over a hundred feet below the desert floor. It was made mostly of soft sifting sand that could burn a man's foot through his boot. In the spring time, a stream meandered through its dark ominous walls. The water, however, fell prey to the leaching rays of the summer sun and dried up before the end of May. Monstrous rock monoliths rose from the canyon floor diverting but not halting the steady flow of the spring water. It was said nothing lived down in the canyon. Like the desert, things were sizzled under the relentless rays of daylight and at night a sharp freeze fell over the land. Sage, sand and a few hardy insects survived in the canyon. Nothing, thrived.
"If we have a place of conclusion would it not undermine our efforts?" Ezra asked not sure he liked the way the rules were being laid down. This seemed to give Vin an unfair advantage.
Tanner noticed the slight panic that flashed across the gambler's countenance. Vin appreciated the vote of confidence. Standish was beginning to think this was not a sure thing after all. Tanner felt good about that, the conniving gambler was having second thoughts about betting against Vin.
"Nah Ezra, we don't need to know we're y'all goin'" Tanner slowly intoned a chuckle escaped, "cuz I'll have ya before ya git where ev'r it is ya're goin'." Vin's mind was working quickly. Having an common finish line did give him undo advantage. There were only so many different ways out of town. Then again the same lack of options or the same plethora of options faced fleeing outlaws. If Vin should happen to lose Buck or Chris's trail, which of course is unlikely, he would need a back up plan.
Standish had a right to be worried.
"You have to leave something behind for us pick up, like a small marker hidden out of the way," Tanner explained as the idea started coming to mind.
"Like a treasure hunt," JD helped out.
Buck began to warm up to the idea, "Ok we leave something behind to be found," he nailed Vin with a smug smile, "you'll have to look for it Vin," Buck said.
"We leave two things on each day," Chris confirmed. He caught onto the train of thought. Larabee really did look forward to the hunt. It would be fun to test Vin's ability against his own. Chris knew he was not near as good a tracker as Tanner but Larabee felt confident he could hold his own if push came to shove. This gave him the opportunity to test it. Buck would do alright. He and Wilmington had been on the trail together for nearly a life time. Wilmington was a man to have at your side in a pinch. Buck and he had faced and survived odds that would have left most men dead. Buck and he were a team had been for a life time. They would prevail. Standish, well maybe if Vin took JD it would even the odds.
"Alright gentlemen lets make this clear," Ezra said leaning forward surveying the faces of the others at the table. For this particular wager the rules needed to be clear. Usually Ezra liked to muddy the water to hide any possible 'exits' he might need to employ. This particular gamble needed to be run with clear boundaries. Standish himself knew he was out of his element. Had Vin not challenged him into participating, Ezra would have been content to stay in town and hold onto the wages.
"Mr. Wilmington, Mr. Larabee and myself have three days in which we have to elude you gentlemen," nods circled the table. "We must leave two items, secreted away somewhere along the trail each day for Mr. Tanner and his team to secure," again he paused checking for agreement.
"If we make it three days undetected we win," Ezra smiled already tasting victory.
"If we catch you," Vin smiled confidently, "you lose."
"Only if you have all six items in your possession," Standish returned.
"Who's on Vin's team?" JD asked. He wanted in on this anything to get out of town. It was down right boring. The Dime novels never mentioned the 'down time' between gunfights.
"I'll take JD," Tanner said without hesitation. The kid was picking up the skills of tracking quite quickly.
Larabee and Wilmington exchanged quick glances that were not lost on JD or Ezra.
Standish silently fumed, 'they think I'm going to be a hindrance,' Ezra bit back his indignation. They are using Mr. Dunne's green horn status to offset my supposed lack of ability. They were in for a shock.
JD wanted to kick Buck. 'they're happy Vin's taking me, think I'll slow Vin up, make up for them having to take Ezra,' Dunne wanted to win now, not because of the money. Hell Ezra could have his winnings. He was going to show Buck just how good a tracker he really could be given the chance.
Josiah noticed the silent communication between Buck and Chris and also knew that it was not lost on Ezra or JD. Nothing was ever easy.
"I'm with you Brother Vin," Josiah's baritone voice rang quietly around the near empty saloon. Someone would have to keep the peace or pick up the pieces.
"Y'all don't mind I'm going to sit this one out," Jackson said tiredly. The others might have been experiencing a slow month, but things had been busy for him. With foals and calves hitting the ground, farmers and ranchers had been on the receiving end of upset momma's. Nathan could not remember having to wrap so many ribs or legs before. This spring season had brought out the fight in mares and cows alike and their owners were paying for it in flesh. Heck just yesterday poor ole Evan Thompson took a cloven hoof to the chest that knocked him through the corral. Busted three ribs up real good. When would people learn not to come between momma's and their babies?
They nodded their consent. The rules were set, teams picked and wages made. The seven dispersed for the day. They would start at first light the next morning. Nathan watched the six other men and wondered if he should stick close to town. Something told Jackson that all the ingredients for a disaster were in the cauldron.
Larabee smiled as he headed out of the saloon. Devil's Canyon. It would be a suitable place. If Vin was indeed hot on their trail they could lose the tenacious tracker within that convoluted maze.
Tanner watched Chris quietly. Vin knew it. Devil's Canyon. The sly dog was going to try and make the Canyon and, if need be, lose Vin and his team with in its twisted innards. Vin chuckled. He loved the Canyon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cole Donavon was not a decent man. He did not have any misconceptions of his morality or lack of ethics. Cole knew that when his time came due his soul would burn in eternal damnation. This revelation did not bother him. In fact, he relished the idea, looked forward to it with almost barely contained glee. Yes, he would burn in Hades for his wrong doings on this pitiful earth. A malicious leer slid across the chiseled whiskered face. Cole folded his lean arms across a wiry chest as he watched his youngest brother. Hell had better be ware.
Hades....A warm place with a nasty attitude. He belonged there and would welcome the challenge. Devlin, of course deserved better. Cole's little brother should have been spared the miserable existence they had been forced to endure. It was not to be, so no time should be wasted dwelling on it . Delvin would follow his older brother through the gates of hell. They would remain together that was all that really mattered in the end.
Cole watched contentedly as his baby brother slipped the poisonous seeds into Wilmington's saddle bags. The smell of coffee briefly overrode the aroma of the livery. A simple little seed found throughout Texas and a those few territories just north of it. Small innocuous looking things that could kill a grown man if enough were consumed. The beauty of it was not the death that they imparted but the severe illness that they wrought on their victims. To those that consumed these little gems, would fall into a realm of agony one to two days after they were eaten or drank.
Cole let a chuckle out. Oh yes, he and Devlin were going to hell but Buck Wilmington and Chris Larabee would go first. Poetic justice.
Cole's twisted smile transformed into a snarl as he remembered the day his younger brother, Liam, was gut shot by the gunslingers. Donavon growled with predatory animosity. Wilmington and Larabee had gut shot his younger brother and left him to die. They did not even bother to finish him off. They shot him and left. Liam did not die easily. No sir. He was Sean Donna's son and a fighter. Liam held on for three days, slowly bleeding to death in agony as his guts and innards slowly died away, rotting inside of him. Liam died from the inside out. He lived through his torturous death. The middle brother knew he was dead the second the two slugs tore through his lower and middle abdomen. Intestines slowly leaked ingesta into the large cavity as blood seeped from the body in an ungodly slow fashion. Liam had suffered. Suffered miserably. He had been reduced to a chilled bloodless corpse with a rapid heart beat. In the end, he died crying for reprieve, begging one of his brothers to kill him.
Cole on that third day put a bullet in his younger brother's head. He ended Liam's suffering as Devlin dug the grave just on the other side of the grassy knoll.
Wilmington and Larabee were to blame. They too would suffer. They would suffer the severe abdominal pain and cramps, they would die in an agonizing manner. Neither would know the source of their illness and would continue to consume more of it until they could no longer bear to move. Yes, as the poisoned worked and their thirsts increased they would drink more of the little seeds thus cinching their own painful deaths. An eye for an eye.
Cole would not take a chance of meeting them face to face. He had lost one younger brother, he would not lose two. He had promised his loving Mother, so long ago, that he would watch over and protect her sons while she was sick. Their mother had died before Devlin celebrated his tenth birthday. The death hit their father hard. He had become an angry man, brutal. Through his brawn and relentlessness he had taught his sons self reliance, tenacity and ruthlessness. His boys had grown in his image.
Then Larabee and Wilmington entered the picture.
The Senior Donavon was shot down in a saloon brawl. Liam had fired into the crowd that gathered around the dying father. Liam had acted out of pain and blind rage. His five bullets had found three targets; some nameless cow pushers and a saloon wench had fallen to his pain. Larabee and Wilmington drew and shot Liam. Gunned him down in cold blood. Killed him mercilessly because Liam had grieved for his father.
Cole had dragged his wounded brother from the corpse of their father. Carried him home only to witness him rot from the inside out. The house had come to smell of fetid flesh. Flies had blown the wound. Despite Devlin's fight to keep Liam free from crawling flesh eating pests they came. The bugs had swarmed the wound. Devlin had tried day and night to help his brother. Cole had watched, listening to the moans and cries of his brothers. Listened as the rice like fly larva ate the dead flesh from the living corpse of his younger brother. Liam had to listen while the vermin consumed his dying flesh.
Cole had become a demon. Devlin had followed his brother out of loyalty and a passion born of hate. He too would repay Wilmington and Larabee for the atrocities that befell their family.
~~~~~~~~~
Devlin secured the leather bags on Wilmington's saddle, patting them quietly knowing full well what he had just done. Devlin stood the same height as his older brother. Both just at six feet. Cole was older by three years. They could have been twins. Both with dark bay colored hair, piercing blue eyes and sprinkling of freckles. Dimples would have adorned Cole's cheeks if he had smiled. There was very little in this world that brought out a smile. The impending death of the two murderers that strutted through Four Corners, enticed a feral grin to his leathered features.
His dimples came from his mother.
Devlin smiled when he remembered his mother. She had soft hands and a freckled face. Her voice was quiet and always seemed to laugh. He could not recall the specific's of her features but when he thought of her a comforting feeling blanketed him. His mother loved him tenderly a direct contrast to his father. His father was a hard man, forging his sons into men that would survive in an untamed, unruly world. At the experienced age of twenty-two, Devlin had set himself on a path of revenge and retribution. He had lost a mother to illness, a father to fight and a brother to blind cruelty.
It was time to wreak some revenge. Devlin would extract the proper form of payment from the two lawmen. He would avenge the wrongful death of his older brother. Then and maybe then Cole would return to him. After taking Wilmington and Larabee to the gates of Hell, maybe the laughing Cole that Devlin had once known would come back. It would not happen before then Devlin knew this in his heart. Cole had died the day he put a bullet in Liam. When Devlin had buried his older brother on the grassy knoll overlooking their humble homestead, the youngest knew he buried a piece of Cole too.
Larabee and Wilmington would pay, and pay in spades.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JD fumed as he tossed his knife angrily into the boardwalk. He sat in his chair tilting it back against the jail house wall. He would show Buck and Chris. JD Dunne was not the greenhorn that first jumped from the moving stage coach so many years ago. When would Buck realize that JD was no longer just a dumb city kid? The Sheriff harrumphed, probably never.
" 'Ey Kid," Tanner settled down in the chair next Dunne. He stretched out his long leather clad legs and pulled his hat down over his eyes. The sun had begun to set in the west. The comfortable spring like warmth slowly slipped from the land and the cold winter chill seemed to settle back in place. In just over an hour it would be dark out, the moon would almost be full. Tanner smiled to himself. He wondered if Buck, Chris or Ezra even realized that it would be a full moon in just a few nights. With a full moon hanging low in a spring sky, it would be possible to track them even at night. Ezra wouldn't know if it were day or night unless the sun rose and set around his gaming table. Buck might have noticed. Chris should and probably did take into account the phase of the moon. Larabee liked a challenge. Tanner would accommodate him.
He had noticed the irritation on JD's face this morning at the saloon. Everyone did but Chris and Buck. Even Ezra seemed a bit put out. That was unusual, the gambler took most things in stride, well as long as it did not directly include money. The silent insinuations between Buck and Chris had stirred ill feelings in both Dunne and Standish. The two supposed greenhorns had something to prove now. It might make Vin's job a little more difficult. JD might think he had something to prove to Vin and act rashly. Ezra, on the other hand, would be on his 'best' behavior, whatever that might be, probably just not irritating Chris to the point of murder. That would hinder Tanner somewhat. He was as shocked as everyone else when Chris volunteered to side with Standish.
Vin figured those two would bicker so much he would just have to follow a blood trail. Ezra never knew when to keep his mouth shut when it came to Larabee. It would make Vin's job a lot less difficult. Not that it was going to be terribly trying anyhow. To track three men to a predestined finishing spot would be as easy as licking melted butter off a knife. Throw Standish and Larabee into the mix and all Vin would have to do is follow the destruction that tended to ensnare the two men. With Buck and Chris's silent but not unnoticed communication it changed the circumstances. Ezra realized what was expected of him and it infuriated him. Tanner had seen it easy enough. Standish would change his behavior and mannerisms to keep his unpredictable nature intact. He would not fight with Chris. As a result there would be no blood trail, no destruction, nothing which would simply say 'Chris and Ezra fought here'. Tanner sighed it really did not matter. He would have those three spotted before the established time limit.
The tracker stole a sidelong glance at the young sheriff. JD could not hide his anger and frustration as easily as Standish.
"JD? You ok?" Tanner asked again.
Dunne glanced over a Vin briefly then leaned forward retrieving his small knife from the boardwalk. "Jist fine, why?"
"Nuthin' just want'd ta make sure yer ready fer tomorra," Tanner replied quietly settling back in his chair, "We'll have those three before they reach Devil's Canyon," Vin smiled under the brim of his hat. He followed JD with his eyes. He did not want the young man thinking Vin doubted his abilities. Dunne was a fast learner and he had great retention. If anything JD would be a big help.
"Don't worry Vin I won't mess it up fer ya," JD muttered out still seething.
"Never was," Tanner intoned quietly. As far as he was concerned the matter was taken care of, JD knew where Vin stood.
Dunne gazed at the hat shrouded sharpshooter. Vin did not seem concerned about JD riding with him. A small smile spread across JD's face. He would prove to Buck and Chris that he was just as good as them when it came to tracking.
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part 4
Chris had expected to have to drag the gambler from his bed that first morning. The sun had not even crested the horizon. It was still dark out as Larabee crossed the main street, leaving the warm comforts of the boarding house heading toward the saloon to roust Standish. Larabee had wanted to drop that responsibility onto Wilmington but Buck was in the arms of Pansy bemoaning his fate. Larabee smiled in the early morning blackness. There were something's that one could always count on: the sun rising in the East, setting in the West, and Buck in the arms of a young lady.
Chris hopped up the step to the boardwalk. The hollow sound of his boots marked his passage. Chris pushed through the batwing doors and stopped in surprise.
Ezra sat drinking a cup of coffee at the bar.
Larabee paused for a brief moment. He wondered if the southerner had gone to bed at all. Funny thing about the gambler, he would sometimes rather forgo sleep if he had to be up and moving at any 'ungodly' hour of the morning.
Chris did not care for the reason. Standish was awake and apparently functional. That was enough for now.
"You ready?" Chris asked quietly. The morning had a sharp chill to it. It seemed to magnify the silence that enveloped the still sleeping town. Larabee's subdued voice rang loudly across the empty saloon.
Ezra gazed up from his coffee. This time of day was an a front to the senses. It was unnatural for him to be up and moving contemplating the day. One should be either engaged in a game of chance or nestled away comfortably under blankets in deep repose. Whatever made him join these wretches in such a fool hearty exercise?
Money.
Yes of course. There was a lot to be said for wealth.
"Lead the way," Standish tried to smile but could not find it in his heart to force undo activity on his body.
Larabee turned on his heel and headed back out into the dark morning. The street fires still struggled to hold onto what little life they had left. In an hour or so the sun would begin to glow just behind the tree line. The small blazes that lined the main street would die out leaving the dirt thorough way bathed in the grey of predawn light. Stars had begun to fade in the sky, the slight shifting of constellations marked the passage of time.
Chris entered the livery to find Buck saddling his large grey gelding. Larabee noticed Standish had actually packed and secured his saddle bags the night before. Anything to give himself a few extra minutes of sleep. If indeed he did manage to make it to bed.
"Buck," Chris said in way of greeting. He felt surprisingly good. It was almost just like old times. He and Buck hitting the trail before sun up. They normally would have been packing away a hardy lunch that Sarah ....had....packed. The momentary flash of joy sizzled with the blurry image of his beloved wife and fading son.
"Chris," Wilmington responded with a smile. Pansy was never a disappointment. "You drag Ezra's sorry ass out of bed?"
"No he did not," Standish responded entering the livery. The morning chill cut through both his coats. What ever possessed him to engage in such sophomoric games?
"'Ey Ezra," Buck boomed out happily. Wilmington turned and faced the southerner. Standish might have been up and moving but he was hardly awake.
"Don't worry pard' I packed some coffee fer ya, so yer won't have to suffer to much on the trail," Buck chuckled. They would make Devil's Canyon in no time and lose Vin and the others before the sun hit midday. Hell, if things fell according to plan Ezra would be able to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee morning and night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vin Tanner lay flat on his belly on the roof of the Mercantile peering down his spy glass. A humorous smirk crossed his face. The threesome headed South out of town. The tracker did not bother biting back a chuckle. Chris and Buck were acting as predicted. The comment yesterday had Ezra up out of bed before either of the other two. Tanner had to concede that the change in behavior of the gambler would be a problem. One could usually count on the southerner to slow the others up by a good ten minutes with just his complaining and general surliness in the morning. It would not be the case these next few days. Still Buck and Chris were behaving in their typical manner.
Vin was going to enjoy the next couple of days. He knew how Chris and Buck thought and figured it would not be a problem tracking them. His only hesitancy lay in obvious fact that if he knew how they thought, then it would stand to reason that Chris and Buck had a clear understanding on how Vin thought. Those two would act accordingly and change their behavior.
Tanner smiled again as he lay on the roof. This was where Standish came into play. The Southerner was a bull headed obstinate man if pushed to hard. They all were, but no one was as quick with remarks as Standish. An unfortunate trait that landed him trouble time and again with Larabee and Jackson. Standish would be the counter balance for the two other men. Chris and Buck would have to act and react without their extremist tendencies. They would modify their behavior but only to so much.
Tanner peered down the spy glass again and chuckled.
The threesome left before first light, getting a jump on the day. They headed South out of town the opposite direction of Devil's Canyon. Tanner handed the spy glass to JD who muffled yet another yawn. The kid was eager to get moving. Vin had to agree with Dunne but still they had to wait a full days light before they could start out after the others.
"Watch'em for a moment will ya JD." Vin said. Tanner rolled over onto his back and made himself a smoke. He licked the paper sealing the ends closed.
"Why Vin?" Dunne asked. He held the telescope to his eye and did as requested. Dunne would do exactly as Tanner said without argument. Vin could teach him a lot about tracking and more importantly with the Texan's help he could finally prove to Buck and Chris that he was good on the trail.
"Cuz in about ten minutes they're gonna turn left 'n' head East fer a bit before changin' direction agin 'n' head toward Devil's Canyon," Vin stated matter of factly.
JD took his eye from the spy glass stared at Tanner for a brief second and then refocused his attention.
Nine and a half minutes later the trio turned left taking an Easterly direction.
"Hot damn Vin," JD sputtered with a joyous whoop, "How'd ya know they'd do that?"
Vin still lying on his back, smiled smugly, "Chris likes ta flank things, scout'm out before he rides straight into ta somethin'." Tanner closed his eyes enjoying the winter chill that hung on the morning air. Yup, as easy as lickin' butter off a knife.
He, JD and Josiah would have those three before night fall tomorrow.
"Lit's go git ready kid," Vin said standing up. Chris, Buck and Ezra would be out of sight by now. There would be nothing left to watch except the sunrise. The two men silently disappeared through the crawl space in the roof.
A crow sat quietly on the bank roof across the street.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buck leaned back in his saddle soaking up the late morning rays. Chris had lead them on a tortuous meandering route. They had climbed over grassy hills, rock slabs, across hard packed sage covered ground before finally swinging North West.
It promised to be another beautiful day. A few white clouds hung high in the sky. The sun warmed the air beating back the chill of the previous night and morning. Buck had peeled off his rough coat and tied it behind his saddle. A nice day indeed.
The horses kept up a brisk walk. They were in good condition and could handle this pace for most of the day. Buck knew Chris would not stop if it could be avoided. Wilmington chuckled. Larabee would ride all day and night just to reach the canyon before Vin. The horses could make it probably but getting them back out would be a trial. With watering holes drying up it there would be no point in pushing the horses to extremes.
A hawk cried out. Its shrill cut through the mid morning day comfortably breaking the silence that had blanketed the small group.
Buck had figured Ezra's mouth was just not awake yet and Chris, ahh Hell Chris wouldn't say anything just for conversation sake. The man was just plain uncommunicative when you got right down to it.
Wilmington as was his habit conversed enough for both he and Chris when they were out on the trail together. Lately Buck had JD to talk with but not today. Ezra would have to do in a pinch.
Not that conversing with the gambler was bad, not at all. It was just half the time Buck had no idea what the man was saying.
Buck swung around in his saddle and faced the conman. Standish still wore both his coats and his hat hung somewhat over his eyes effectively shielding them from the bright sunlight.
"How ya hold'n up Ezra?" Wilmington asked. His cheerful voice rang out over the clop of hooves and the creaking of leather. "Ya know Ezra the mornin' sun won't kill ya if it shines on ya," Buck continued to ramble. It felt so good to be outside. Invigorating, he had heard Mary use that word once. He would try it on Ezra, "Ain't it invigorating to be outside Ezra?"
Chris furrowed his brow as he lead the others, "Invigorating?" Where did Buck dig up that word. He was glad Standish had come along. It gave Buck someone to focus his energy on instead of Chris. Larabee actually enjoyed the banter and one sided conversations Buck and he had when ever they were out on the trail. Buck knew him so well that when Wilmington asked Larabee a question Buck would answer it for him. Chris did not mind, most times Buck answered it correctly.
Chris let a broad smile stretch across his face bringing out his dimples. Standish was not so tolerant in the mornings.
The southern drawl floated up the line, "Shut up Buck."
Buck's smile brightened, 'understood that,' he said to himself. Wilmington, undaunted, continued his dialogue with Standish.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The threesome came to slow meandering stream. Even with the promise of Spring the water traveled slowly rolling with a soft murmur within its grassy banks. Trees and brush clung to the subsisting on the water that traversed just a few feet away.
Chris nudged his black gelding into the icy water. The animal did not hesitate. It stepped boldly into the river adjusting its gate to the slippery rolling ground it now tread upon. Buck's grey leaped in with a flourish. Horse and rider feeding off of one another's enthusiasm. The dapple grey dropped its head into the water and snorted. It pranced and splashed about in the stream with its front legs shaking its head. Up ahead Chris chuckled to himself. Buck and his gelding deserved one another. That fool horse would go anywhere Wilmington asked it and would find away to amuse itself once it got there. A typical Buck.
The chestnut quarter horse paused. It really did not trust the shifting ground below the moving water. It could not see the stream bed and therefore would not obligingly step off something as stable as solid earth. Standish could not really disagree with his horse. Sometimes the animal possessed more common sense than most people. Today was not the day for attitude. He quietly asked the animal to step off the bank. The horse complied.
Chris had turned around in the saddle when he heard the pregnant pause between horses entering the stream. He watched Standish nonchalantly urge his quarter horse down off the bank. The animal did not seem to relish the water as much as the grey in front of him. Larabee let a half smile cross his face. The chestnut hung back keeping its distance from the frolicking grey. Standish did not seem to mind. Chris figured neither horse nor rider wanted to get unduly soaked.
They trudged down the middle of the stream. Conversation had been halted. The horses clomping through two feet of water made communication difficult. The stream widened out enough to accommodate two horses side by side but they retained their single file line. Tributaries fed into the larger stream occasionally Buck would ride up one disappear turn around and join up with the others. Just something to keep Vin busy.
They passed one inlet. Ezra pulled up his horse. He sat quietly for a brief moment a puzzled expression on his face. Buck and Chris both noticed the change in volume of horses moving through water. Both held their horses and swung around in their saddles.
"Ezra what are you doin'?" Buck asked. He knew it was to good to be true. It really was not anyone's fault. It just was not in Standish's nature to go along quietly with anyone. Wilmington did not bother turning to face Chris. He knew Larabee did not have the patience for this kind of hesitation. They were on a schedule and Larabee was punctual if anything.
"Are we not attempting to gain Devil's Canyon?" Standish asked slightly confused.
"Yeah so come'n," Buck said.
Chris held his tongue. He would let Wilmington handle this little episode. Larabee figured his time would come soon enough. Maybe he should have just ignored Josiah.
"Yes, well if that is the case then why are we not taking this route?" Standish asked again indicating to the tributary he now stood before.
"Cuz this is the way to Devil's Canyon," Buck answered.
Chris sat back in this saddle and watched the gambler. Ezra had kept his mouth shut all morning and had been cooperative. Why would he suddenly change tactics? If he stalled to much then he ran the risk of losing the bet. That would be unacceptable to the conman. No something was definitely in the making.
Buck squinted his eyes at the southerner. Standish was up to something.
"What are you gettin' at Ezra," Chris edged his horse quietly back up the rocky steam bed.
"I know for a fact that this," he indicated to the small rapidly moving stream to his left, "minor tributary springs from Devil's Canyon." His green eyes belied the quiet confidence in his voice.
Chris merely raised his eye brows in askance. Buck shrugged. This was new to him but he was open to ideas. He and Chris had rode all through this territory and knew it forward and backward. There was not a trail that they had not traversed. This was something new.
"Gentlemen, gentleman," Standish let a devilish smile tweak his face offering only a hint of his dimples, "trust me."
Buck shut his eyes and groaned and Chris shook his head in dismay.
Standish saw this and sighed. He leaned his wrists on his saddle horns and slumped forward, "Your lack of faith is disturbing," His smile never faltered.
Sanchez's words came back to haunt Larabee. Chris swore silently, he really hoped to avoid such situations.
"What makes you so sure?" Larabee would hear the explanation first and then make a decision.
Ezra cocked his head slightly and sighed again, "Well if you recall the unfortunate disagreement between Mr. Sanchez and myself a few weeks back?"
Buck interrupted him, "Ya mean the time you took money from the poor box?" Wilmington thought that had to be the lowest move a person could pull.....until he heard the reason behind it.
"I did not steal the money," Standish bit out trying to hide his sudden anger. The short sightedness of his compatriots was appalling.
"Ya took it without ask'n," Buck pointed out. Something's were just plain wrong no matter how you looked at it. Ezra really crossed the line on that fool stunt. It paid off in the end but the hell he lived through before it turned right could not have been worth it. Wilmington amended his thoughts. For Ezra yes the monetary gain would definitely make dancing with the Devil worth his efforts.
"Only because if I had asked Mr. Sanchez would have said 'No," Standish returned. He had acted purely for the good of others....with only slight profit for himself. Why did no one else understand the motivations that resulted in such positive results? One could not hope to survive on a dollar a day and thrive, even if room and board were thrown into the deal. Some times a person had to stretch the flimsy, shifting boundaries of right and wrong to create opportunities. Ezra had serendipitously dipped into the 'collection box' removed a tiny sum and converted it into a moderately large sum, in a relatively short time span. What could possibly be wrong with such actions? The money had been returned and then some. Josiah's collections had nearly tripled as a direct result of Standish's intervention. Instead of being praised, Ezra found himself on the receiving end of just about everyone's righteous indignation. The only one not to openly judge him was Chris Larabee. Standish found very little comfort in the older man's silence. Chris tended to use lead as a language medium.
"Enough," Chris said. He had heard these same arguments six weeks ago. He did not need to relive them. "What's your point Ezra?" He would strangle Josiah the next time he saw him.
"Well if you gentlemen remember correctly you suggested that perhaps it would be within my best interest to make myself somewhat scarce for a short time," Ezra reminded them.
"We told ya ta git out of town before Josiah killed ya," Buck said. Sanchez was ready to rip the southerner apart limb by limb. Josiah could be down right scary when properly riled.
"Yes well I could not go to Eagle Bend, Bitter Creek is more than a week away and..." Standish was saying but was interrupted by Chris's tired.
"Git to the point Ezra," The man could not answer a simple question straight forward.
"I thought it best to cover my tracks somewhat," Ezra continued undaunted by the glares, "in case you gentlemen were unable to restrain Mr. Sanchez. I stumbled across this little stream and it lead to Devil's Canyon." A sly smile lit up his face and he added, "in a most convoluted manner."
Chris frowned muffling his chuckle and nodded his head. Buck laughed. Both men swept their arms in an outward manner, "lead the way," Chris chuckled.
Chaucer, familiar with the watery trail gamely trod up the quick moving stream. Buck and Chris fell in behind the gambler sharing amused glances. The Gambler might be a bonus after all.