Storyteller / Shared NPC
Mature Content: Yes, violence. Most likely
With: Speed, Quentin, Roberson (NCP) and, Dade Marley (NCP)
Time of Day: Afternoon into early evening
Still, there was no one coming out of the town in pursuit. Now, to figure out where he was, and where he would be headed.
Trees were plentiful, which, along with the boulders, would make for great cover, if he needed it. He could no longer see back toward that jerkwater burgh and that was just fine. No one had bothered to give chase, at least not that he was aware of. But then, Dade Marley had always been cavalier about such things. He figured that if it came to it, he could shoot his way out of trouble.
He stepped into leather and swung his leg over. The saddle wasn’t bad either! He thought. He faced a slope with no real trail, game or otherwise to follow so he started off, going easy as he decided he had all the time in the world. The way down was about the same as the way up, not shale, but loose dirt and rocks, so picking his way through was time consuming, but there would be no hoof prints for anyone to follow. There would be freshly disturbed ground however, and a good deal of it. Yet he was not worried.
It took the better part of an hour to reach a point where once he made his way around a huge out-cropping he would once more be on flat ground. The cows startled him as he rode right out in front of them.
"Easy Mister!" The man in front of him, holding a cocked Colt, said as the small herd passed by. "Keep those hands where I can see 'em." A second man rode up just then give him and his outfit the once over.
"You a Roberson rider?" He demanded, his eyes open wide.
"No, no I surely ain't." Dade replied calmly, hands folded over the pommel.
"I'll be go ta hell, that's Royce Roberson's horse yer on mister." The first one said as the second man drew his revolver.
"I can explain if you give me a chance." The was no sign of fear in Dades voice. "We just tried the bank in that burg. I'm the only one to get away. Spotted this horse and took it, better'n a rope."
"Tried the bank didja? Now that's downright interestin'. Stole ol' Royces hose as well?" The second one asked.
"Like you two helped yourself to a few of his cattle. I can read brands, you know, Leanin' R's same as the one on this horses rump." Dade shot back. "Reckon you don't ride for this Royce Roberson now, do ya?"
"Where ya headed."
"Got no place in particular, lookin' ta clear outta the country." And that was true, he just wanted to get away. Wouldn't be the first time he was on the Dodge.
The man slipped his Colt back in the holster and said, "Foller us up a ways. Got some remounts waitin. Won't need 'em, so we'll trade you outta Roberson horse, got it self an odd front hoof that's easy to track. We'll send it on home, and you can dust on outta here." He looked back, "He's Larson, I'm Guthrie."
"Now Your talkin'!" Dade stated. "Dade, Dade Marley."
Storyteller / Shared NPC
Dade looked at them a moment, one to the other. Why wouldn't the remounts be needed, so he smiled and asked, "How come you won't need the remounts?"
"Simple, we ain't tryin' ta out run the Leanin' R boys. So what we do is we add 'em to the trail we're leavin', so we look like more'n we are." Guthrie informed him. Though to Dade they weren't leaving much of anything as they were in a dry sandy creek bottom
"Ahhh, got it. Yeah, that makes sense alright." Dade responded.
"So, we just switch out whatever, and you take a remount while ol' Roberson' nag hightails it home." Larson added.
"Ain't none'a my kit, reckon I'll come by a new one. Don't need a horse with an odd hoof, not in my line of work." The Dade laughed. The other two chuckled as they followed the bed around a bend, and there stood two horses, waiting, swishing their tails to ward of the flies.
"You got thirty dollars?" Larson asked. "If you do, take yer pick, they're from my string."
"Hard money, thirty dollars. Got it right here. Take the blaze face Chestnut." He liked that mount right off.
"Step down, we need to shoo that one on home." Guthrie directed. Dade stepped down, taking only the canteen, one never knew when he'd need more than one. Slapping the horse on the rump it buck jumped and took off at a gallop, out of the creek bed running north-east. "Now, you can light out, or follow along with us. Might be we could use you."
Climbing aboard the Chestnut after paying in silver for a good two hundred dollars in horse flesh and leather, he smiled. " Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll take my chances for now. But you never know, might just run onto you gents and be in need of that job. Adios!" And with that he spurred his mount and headed north.
"Know'd his brother Bill, danged fool. Figgered never ta get caught with his broad daylight bank jobs. Guess he was mistaken." Larson admitted. "Let's move, we're burnin' the day away!"
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
He ran the horse a ways then slowed to a canter and then a walk. There was a good mile between him and those rustlers, though they looked to be having it pretty easy. They probably had them a hide out with food and whiskey. Maybe even someone paying them for collecting other folks cattle.
But, they had the horse that could be tracked, so he meant to be as far away from them as he could. There was a rope waiting on him, and he intended to let it wait. Even if they let it go, as they said they would, it could be tracked right back to them.
How far off was that posse, he wondered, because by now there was one, or at least this Roberson character and maybe a couple of his hands looking for the horse. Better he was away from cattle thieves an just making his way toward whatever the future might hold.
Meanwhile, Guthrie and Larson, along with the cattle, made their way farther up the creek bed. They had sent the stolen hose on it's way as they had said they would, now it was about making the secluded pen and getting back to the hide out.
It was a box canyon, if one could call it that, as it only went a couple hundred yards back of the creek bed. The fencing that closed off a part of it was disguised with scrub brush, but it was still a ways further on.
Behind them, Speed, Quentin and Roberson had topped out on the hill above the creek bed, pushed their way to the bottom and paused.
"Looks to me like anything passing this way used the soft bottom to hide their tracks." Speed noted.
Quentin reined Paladin left and right a bit, looking down at the sandy soil. "Hang on...look at all this disturbance..." He leaned a bit and craned it back behind them and then forward, squinting into the distance. "These are cattle sign...and not just a few stragglers." Quentin swung his Winchester around and shoved it back into the scabbard, then fished around in his saddlebag and came out with a set of field glasses. Quentin raised them and looked in the direction of the tracks, moving the focus wheel a few times slowly. Finally he lowered them and handed them over to Speed.
"Not a single cow in sight...does that seem right to you if this is wild and open country? No strays, none drinking water, none idly eating..." Quentin then looked over at Roberson. "...and your horse went in the same direction." He turned and took off his hat to wipe his forehead and face with his bandana. "Our bank robber either tried to use this area to hide his tracks, or he has more friends..." Quentin voiced the unspoken concern he hoped his comrades had already thought about.
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
“The hell you say? That just makes no sense. Maybe he thought he’d lose his tracks in the others, but even in the sand that print stands out.” Roberson said.
“Well, lookie here. You horse went off in that direction, back toward your place, but the track aren’t as deep as they were, means there ain’t no rider.” Speed was at a loss for the moment. “Appears he switched horses here, like there was someone waiting on him, but that just makes no sense. This would have had to be the planned escape route, and that seems highly unlikely.”
Quentin leaned and rested his hands on his pommel. "Alright...seems like we have two choices. We either follow the horse which appears to no longer be ridden, or we continue off in that direction..." He waved a hand in the direction of the rest of the tracks. "...and hope we get some idea where he went or what his plans were." Quentin then turned and looked at Speed. "Marshal?..."
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
“So, it’s plain he got another mount. What isn’t plain is how or where he might have gone afterward. Maybe we follow these tracks, seems like several head of cattle and maybe two horse, but it be any number with the cows to wipe out their trail, had tellin’.
“Yep, best we trail them steers and see if we don’t come on the one we’re looking for.” Roberson added. Both looked to Quentin
Quentin considered for a moment then nodded. "Birds of a feather, and all that..." He took back the field glasses from Speed and stuck them back into his saddlebag before taking up Paladin's reins. "Let's go see how smart we are..." Speed started moving and Quentin fell in behind him as the three riders continued trailing the easy to follow tracks.
"The law is the law."
"Mining's not everyone's choice of hobbies, it just happens to be mine."
There was something not right about this whole situation. The feel was all wrong, or at least to him. Speed watch the trail ahead of them, murky as it was fast becoming with the sandy soil getting deeper. Such was trailing in a creek bed.
As he was beginning to doubt following this trail, he heard the unmistakable mooing of several cows, and they were close by, which to Speed meant, so would the men they had been following. He reined in and waited on the others to catch up, merely moments.
"Cows are up ahead, so there's someplace they have been stashed off this creek bed." He all but whispered. "I'm thinking the men we're after are still there., or close by."
Roberson looked hostile. "Means them cows 'er mine!" His voice would carry, being angry and loud.
Quentin's head shot around and his low voice cut off Roberson's indignation. "Quiet! They can hear you back in town." Roberson shot a glare back at Quentin but the other man was not bothered by the gaze. "There might be twenty of them in there waiting on the ones we were following to get back. You want to poke that hornet's nest before we've gotten a better look at it? Now shut up..."
Quentin looked around and nudged Paladin over to the side into a small notch in the creek. He dismounted and looped the reins around a tree branch before he tugged out his rifle from its scabbard. He moved over near the other two men. "We all going to take a look?"