The Long Trail (The McCabes Book 1) by Brad Dennison (microsoft ebook reader .TXT) 📗

all that’s come through in weeks. You boys are the first strangers.”

Dusty looked down to his drink. There was no way he would be able to finish it. No matter. The need for politics was over. The barkeep had told them nothing – and yet, he had told them everything.

The saloon girl was leaning back with her elbows propped against the bar behind her. This caused her shoulders to curve forward a bit, and her dress fell from them, adding to the inviting look she was trying to muster for Josh. She let a smile drift his way, and he returned it with a grin of his own.

“How about you?” he asked. “You see any riders come through here? Maybe in the last day or two?”

She shrugged. “None that I can remember.”

“Try to remember.”

“Buy me a drink?” she asked.

Josh shook his head. “I don’t think so. Nothing against you, but this stuff could pass for rat poison.”

“Hey,” the barkeep said. “This is some of the best moonshine available. I paid top dollar for it.”

“You got cheated.” Josh returned his gaze to the girl. Despite the heavy make-up, which Josh usually found less than inviting, there was something almost pretty about her.

“My name’s Felicia.”

“Pleased to meet you, Felicia,” Josh said. “Maybe I’ll buy you that drink some other time. We have a lot of miles to cross, and not a lot of daylight left.”

Josh and Dusty made camp at the base of a wooded hill a mile or so from town. Dusty sat with his back against the trunk of a large cedar, a tin cup filled with coffee in one hand.

“Josh,” Dusty said, “I have me an idea our search is about to end. I think those raiders have a camp somewhere within riding distance of this town.”

“And what makes you think that?” Josh was stirring some life into the fire. Looked like another night of beans. They were down to their final can.

“Partly a gut feeling. I’ve learned not to ignore a gut feeling. But also, I think that old barkeep lied.”

“And why would you think that?”

“Because anyone who would try to sell that concoction as drinkable moonshine is a born liar. And because I don’t believe a man on the trail is going to pass up a saloon whore he can buy a drink for. And since I know the way outlaws live, or at least Sam Patterson and his boys, they would never pass up a situation like that.”

“Would men on the run take the time to dally around at a saloon?”

“They would have no way of knowing we are following them, so there’s no reason for them not to take their time.”

Dusty took a sip of his coffee and continued. “I have to wonder if somewhere in those ridges west of town there might be a canyon that would suit their purposes, like that old one Patterson used back when I was a kid. If I’m right, then they’re at their hideout now, nursing their wounds. Maybe riding into town once in a while to visit the saloon, and the women that work there. One thing Sam taught me, you have to get to know your enemy, learn the way he thinks. And part of that is learning his habits. And a man doesn’t often change his habits. ”

Josh nodded. “Of course, if they do have a hideout somewhere in these hills, and they’re frequent patrons of that saloon, and that barkeep would lie for them, and presumably the saloon girl did too, then you can bet Patterson and the boys know we are following them, now.”

Dusty nodded. “That means we’re going to have to be more careful.”

“I have to admit,” Josh said, “and this ain’t easy for me, I’m glad you came along. I ain’t had a lot experience at trailing a man. I would be out of my league, here.”

“I haven’t had much experience with it, either, really. But I’ve been on the other end of the hunt a lot.”

“Well, now is the time to put to use all you learned from Patterson.” Josh pulled the can of beans from his saddle bags. “This is it. The last can. Either we shoot us a rabbit tomorrow, or we’ll be sleeping on empty stomachs.”

“We could always eat at that saloon,” Dusty said with a grin.

Josh returned the grin. “I don’t think so. He’d be likely to serve us rat, and try to pass it off as chicken.”

“I wonder what kind of wine Aunt Ginny would want to serve with that?”

Josh chuckled. “So, you think we should figure Patterson knows we’re following him, and who we are?”

“I think it would be best to err on the side of caution, as Patterson used to say. But he may not know exactly who we are. For all they know, we might be lawmen, or bounty hunters. Of course, you can bet Patterson knew which ranch he was hitting, and who it belonged to. He’s gotta expect anyone trailing him could be gunhawks from that ranch.”

Dusty took another sip of coffee. “You know something that bothers me? Patterson was always so careful in everything he did. He seemed brazen to some, but there was always a shrewd caution in his brazenness. He never took unnecessary chances, especially with his own life, or the lives of the men riding with him. He took his responsibility to them seriously.”

Josh nodded. “Any good leader would have to.” He stirred the beans around the skillet with his bowie knife.

“And part of that caution always involved advanced scouting.”

“He sure scouted the ranch extensively. Watching us from the ridges using a spyglass. He took his time, probably making sure he had all the information he needed. Even sent a man in as a spy.”

“That’s my point. He had to know this was the ranch of Johnny McCabe. He has to know what Pa is capable of. And anyone who knows anything about Johnny McCabe knows that where he is, Zack Johnson is never far away.