“They left their horses here while they went up in the draw and used me for a target,” said Chuck bitterly.
“Think you’d be able to recognize them if you saw them again?”
“I doubt it. The distance was too great and the light was poor.”
“I’ll know one of them,” said Slim. “I put my mark on him. Unless I miss my guess he’s got a shattered right elbow. If I ever catch up with him he’ll have something besides an elbow busted all out of shape.”
The sun burned down over the Cajons and the thin air soon warmed. Rivulets of perspiration streamed down Chuck’s back and his shirt was soon soaked. Slim, not quite so heavy, felt the heat less.
They pounded along for better than an hour when Chuck called a halt. “Let’s stop in the shade of these scrub oaks. This saddle is digging its way right into the middle of my back.”
Slim welcomed the suggestion and they flopped down in the shade.
Chuck looked up speculatively at the clear blue of the sky. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, and the breeze had died down to a whisper.
“How many more miles to the bottom of the trail?” he asked.
“I don’t know exactly. I’d say we’ve covered about four miles since leaving camp. It must be 23 or 24 more.”
“I’ve got to be at the foot of the trail tonight,” said Slim.
“I’m supposed to be,” admitted Chuck, “but I’ve serious doubts if my ‘dogs’ will hold out for better than 20 miles.”
“We’d better keep pounding along. Another hour and we’ll stop and make a pot of coffee and find a creek where we can soak our feet for awhile.”
“Good idea. Mine feel like they’re burning up right now.”
Shouldering their saddles, they set off down the trail. The grade was easing now. There was more timber but the grass was still scarce.
“Not much grazing land here,” commented Chuck.
“No. That’s up in the Creeping Shadows country. I’ve never been there but I’ve heard there’s some of the best grass in Wyoming in that valley.”
“Wouldn’t have to be very good to be that,” said Chuck. “We almost burned out this summer. No rain for weeks.”
“There’s been little or no rain here, but the Creeping Shadows always seem to get water.”
They were silent for a time and Slim wondered why Chuck, too, was anxious to get to the bottom of the trail that night. He couldn’t help thinking about the letter which had fallen from his companion’s pocket the night before and there was still the unanswered question on why Chuck had been set upon by the two gunmen.