Someone out at Thompson’s has to know about Hoffner,” I said, sipping my coffee. Charlie Gold and Mateo had joined me for breakfast. It was a rare occasion to get both the sheriff and his deputy together as they were traveling so much. Charlie had worked it out so that one of them would be in town at all times since there currently was no town marshal.
“Hoffner must know something about Malone and that wanted poster or he wouldn’t be hiding,” remarked Charlie.
I looked over at Mateo and could tell he was pondering something. “Somethin’ on your mind, Mateo?” I asked.
He gave a small shrug of one shoulder, then squinted his eyes, which caused him to scrunch up one side of his face. “Senor Miles, I don’t want you to think bad of me…” He paused.
“Go on,” I urged, then began to pull on my moustache.
“I know you to be a very good tracker, and a person very aware of his surroundings, yet you didn’t see this man following you last night. He must be one sly fellow if you don’t see him.” Mateo stopped speaking.
“And your point, Mateo?” inquired Charlie.
Mateo wiped his mouth then down to the goatee on his chin, cleaning it of the hot sauce that dripped from his eggs. “I was thinking that since I was riding to Telluride that I might follow you out of town. I’ll wait until I see this man, Malone, ride out after you then follow you. Perhaps that will keep you from receiving a bullet in the back.”
I looked over at Charlie who had a blank expression on his face. “Well, I think it’s a wonderful idea. Thank you Mateo for your consideration,” interrupted Molly. I hadn’t noticed that she had approached our table.
“Well, what are you waitin’ for?” I snapped. “Get yourself on out of here, grab your horse and go hide somewhere at the edge of town. I’ll belong in a little while, but if he doesn’t show within fifteen minutes or so, come on anyway. He might already be out of town thinking that I might go back to Thompson’s.”
Mateo drank down the rest of his coffee then got up to leave. “Charlie, if you see this guy, arrest him. I have half a dozen charges against him.” I leaned over to give Molly a kiss, telling her that I would be gone for at least two days, maybe more.
I already had Star saddled and he was standing outside the diner waiting for me. A couple of hours later I rode into the yard of Thompson’ ranch. I wanted to let him know I was there and would be talking with his hands again. Cecil, even though a rough old character and often cantankerous, was always fair so I wanted to let him know I wasn’t taking his cowboys away from their work. After speaking with him, he again referred me to his foreman, Bill Farmer.
Finding Farmer was easier this time as he was down at the tack room. “Howdy, Bill. Mr. Thompson said I’d find you here.”
“Miles, yur back again,” he said, reaching out his hand. “Still looking for Clyde?”
“Bill, I’m convinced one of your hands knows where Clyde might be. There’s a chump of a bounty hunter by the name of Sly Malone looking for him. He has a poster sayin’ that Clyde is wanted.”
“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed Farmer. “He’s a solid worker. I can’t imagine him being wanted.”
Nodding my head, I told him about the poster. “It’s a bogus wanted poster. I contacted the authorities and it was not issued by the state. Seems like a family back in Illinois has it in for Clyde.
“Honest, Miles, I haven’t heard the boys talking about him except a word here and there that he’s missing,” Bill informed me. “Listen, most of the boys are in the lower pasture. Let me get my horse and we’ll ride out and you can question them,” he paused, then continued. “If they do, I can’t guarantee they’ll talk.”
“I hope they do. This Malone is greedy and he’ll find Clyde sooner or later.”
A few minutes later Farmer and I were riding out to find the cowboys. We spoke to a couple as we arrived in the pasture. It seemed that they were all working on mending fence and cleaning out the irrigation ditch. I gave Farmer a questioning look.
“I’ve found it easier that if I put them all on the same disgusting job they won’t be as offended,” he replied.
I nodded, “Makes sense.”
We had spoken to half a dozen of the men and were in the process of speaking with Dakota Norris. I knew Norris, at least by sight. He often came to town for supplies or if Cecil had an occasion to venture in. I could tell from his gestures that he knew something about Clyde.
“Listen Dakota, we have to get this cleared up and now is the chance,” I implored him. “I can assure you that the poster is bogus.”
He looked around, before speaking. “Marshal, I’ll take you to him. Boss, would you mind not coming? If Clyde sees a bunch coming with me, he might get spooked.” He then said to me, “Marshal, I can’t guarantee anything. I can just take you to where I last saw him.”
We rode for about thirty minutes to the southwest. The land was becoming rocky and more arid. For a few minutes we moved through a field of large boulders and rock out-croppings. I was surprised when Clyde stepped out to halt our travel.
I was about to speak, when a shot rang out, the bullet hitting Clyde. As he fell, Dakota and I sprung from our horses…