Lucas wanted to come along with me, but Mateo had jailed several brawlers so he had to stay at the jail. Charlie also told him that no crime had been committed, therefore no investigation was needed so his duty was at the jail. It was for the best. I’m sure Lucas could have learned something, but I didn’t know much myself or if Hoffner just took off. His horse could have fallen and crippled or even killed Hoffner somewhere out on the range.
There was no need to be up early so I didn’t try to break daylight. I saddled Star, rode down to the diner and had a nice breakfast. I should make it to Thompson’s ranch around noon and I’m sure Donovan would feed me.
It had been a while since I let Star get out and run. After we left Durango, I let him loose for several miles. Running was something he relished and it was good to sit in the saddle on him again. Hawk was better in the mountains, but there wasn’t a horse like Star on the flats. After several minutes I slowed him down to a walk then led him to a little stream. We sat there while he nourished himself and I gazed out at the hills. That was another lifetime when I roamed the hills, deserts, and mountains. Now, sometimes I had my wishes, but honestly I was content. Maybe I was becoming too comfortable.
From my reckoning, it was just before noon when I rode into the ranch yard. I’d been to Thompson’s a couple of times and he had a nice place. A large house, but nothing fancy, a cook shack, bunkhouse, and stables connected to a barn. Thompson, being a widower, usually ate at the bunkhouse and it was there I found him. Two other cowboys were there eating that I didn’t know.
Reese Donovan saw me first. “Marshal, you’re a long ways from town. Sit yurself down, I’ll bring yuh a plate.”
Thompson turned his head just far enough to see who I was. “Sit down!” he commanded. I know he didn’t demand that I did, it was just his rough demeanor. He was like that in everything he did–rough. A rough man from a rough age; time had almost passed him by. “What brings you out this way?”
I had already poured coffee from the big pot on the stove and was headed for my seat at the table next to Thompson when Donovan brought my food. It looked sort of like carne asada, but the meat was cubed and a better cut. Also the plate had fried potatoes and what looked like applesauce. I had to smile for it reminded me of a trail dinner, only upgraded. I will have to hand it to Donovan though; he had spiced up that meat just right.
Before answering Thompson I took a bite. Donovan was watching me. I nodded my head and smiled which brought a grin of pure delight to his face. He started back to the kitchen when I called him, “Stick around. I can use your output.”
“To answer your question, I’m out here lookin’ for Clyde Hoffner. Last I knew he was workin’ for you.”
Thompson looked at me with a glare. I think that is the only way he knows how to look at a person. “Has he done anything wrong?”
“Not to my knowledge. His cousin, Reverend Chapman hasn’t heard from him in several weeks and has become concerned that something has happened to him. When was the last time you saw him?”
“You’d have to ask Bill Farmer as he gives out the assignments,” said Thompson. I could tell he was thinking of when he saw him last. He looked down toward the two cowboys. “Perky, Doyle, have you seen Hoffner around?”
They both grunted and shook their heads. “Oh, boys, this is Marshal Miles Forrest. Sorry, I didn’t introduce you to them, Marshal. That skinny one is Bob Perkins better known as Perky, the other fellow is Frank Doyle. They’ve been with me since the first of the year.”
My eyes went to Donovan who was rubbing his chin. “Miles, Clyde came by four days ago askin’ for a poke of grub. I jist figured he was goin’ out for several days.”
“He didn’t look worried or concerned? I don’t suppose he said where he was goin’?