In The Beginning by Gail Daley (top 100 books of all time checklist .TXT) 📕

barrel against his back as his pistol was slipped from its holster.

"Can I turn around now? I’d like to see who’s holding me up," he said.

When he turned, he found himself facing the woman he had seen through the binoculars earlier. "Let’s take a walk," she said, motioning for him to head down toward the farmhouse. "Leave your 'corn. I’ll come back for him."

Sourly, Carlos allowed himself to be herded toward the farmhouse.

"What’s your name girl?"

"Karin," she said.

"You have a last name Karin? Mine is Carlos Madonna."

"Smith. Our last name is Smith."

"Smith," he repeated. "I see. Is that your father down there or your husband?"

"My husband, not that it’s any of your business."

Since the conversation appeared to have dried up, he said nothing more.

The man was waiting for him as they walked up. "He was watching us through glasses," the girl said. "I thought that was a bad idea, so I brought him down to meet you."

Smith nodded, looking Carlos over carefully. "Well," he said, "You’re sure no out of work puncher."

"That’s right," Carlos agreed. "My name is Madonna. I was trailing two outlaws, and I saw them come down here. Have you seen them?"

"You don’t look like the law, neither," Smith continued as if Carlos hadn’t spoken.

"No, I’m not the law. I was hired to find two outlaws who held up some miners a while back."

Smith hawked and spat. "No one like that here. There are two drifters just came by asking for shelter for the night. I told them they could use the old farm shack out by the trees."

"You do that often, put up strangers?"

"Sometimes. Like the good book says, I cast bread upon the waters. Someday I might need it."

"I’d like to meet these drifters."

Smith gave him a suspicious look. "Don’t believe me? Well, they’re right over there. Go ahead, but I’ll have no shooting around my family."

"Fair enough. Your wife took my gun anyway."

"Well, you look peaceable enough. Give him back his pistol Karin."

"Thanks." Carlos took his gun, rechecked the loads, a fact that did not escape Smith’s notice, and re holstered the pistol. He walked down toward the shack, watched by Smith and his wife.

Durango came to the door of the shack as he approached. "Hello, the house," Carlos called. "May I come in?"

"Come ahead," Durango said, just as loudly.

As soon as he got within talking distance, Carlos lowered his voice. "You were right about not passing as a down on his luck drover. The Smiths think I’m a bounty hunter."

"Who are you supposed to be hunting?"

"I told the truth there. Said I was hunting the men who held up the miners. Smith seemed to accept it. He allowed me to come over here anyway. Did he accept your story?"

"Seems to have. I think it’s best if we stay overnight and leave early in the morning."

Carlos nodded. "I’ll tell him that you aren’t the men I’m looking for and ask if there is another way out of the valley. You do the same in the morning and we’ll meet up back outside the brush trail."

"Sounds okay."

"Well, thanks boys," Carlos turned and walked back toward Smith.

"They aren’t who I was looking for. They’ve been over in Tago Crossing for the last month working roundup on the K-B spread. Lost their pay in a gambling game."

Smith nodded. "What will you do now?"

"Start over, I guess. Is there another way out of here?"

"Nope. Just the one you came in."

"Okay, well, I must have picked the wrong trail to follow. I guess I’ll go back and start over. I’d like to clear that trail before it gets too dark to see. Thanks."

He turned and walked back up the hill to where he had tied his tricorn.

Carlos took his time tightening the cinch, aware that Smith continued to watch his movements until he headed back into the brush tunnel. He reached the camp where they had spent last night just as dusk was falling. Carlos picketed the tricorns and added a small number of bluestones and water to start a fire in the fire pit used by the miners. He made a pot of coffee and in the battered pan he carried with him on the trail, heated a can of legumes for supper.

Afterwards, he banked the stones and went to bed. As a precaution, he made his bed over behind the cabin and close to the tricorns, whose alert senses would warn him if anyone approached.

Ante Up

BACK IN RIVER CROSSING ten days later, a tall, skinny man named Marlow Chamber stepped onto the docks from the evening steamer and looked around. His rifle dangling from his hand, he slung a battered warbag over one shoulder and headed for the Hotel. Seth Lindsey, the desk clerk, eyed Chamber with disfavor, but he had been given a large tip, so he led Chamber up the backstairs to the Johnson suite.

Johnson dropped a gold chip into the clerk's hand, reminding him, "You didn’t see anyone."

"No sir," Lindsey said as he shut the door.

"Trip out here go okay?" Johnson asked.

Chamber shrugged. He saw the second man in the room, sitting back in the shadows, but said nothing. He was sure this second man was his Smith contact here in the city, but if the man wished to remain anonymous it didn't bother Chamber. "It went. What’s the job?"

"I need two men taken out. I’m not to be associated with either death."

Chamber waited patiently.

"The first one is Alec McCaffey. Be careful with him. He’s gun savvy and knows the trailing game so don’t let him spot you. He’s son-in-law to Michael St. Vyr. You’ll find him somewhere around the Golden Tricorn Ranch, east of town."

"You got a description?"

"About medium height, brown hair and eyes. Usually rides a gold striped tricorn. He’s worth three pounds of silver chips."

"McCaffey. Would that be the McCaffey that runs a range detection agency over in Bitterstone?"

"Yes, that's the man."

"Uh, huh. I know him. He's going to cost you."

"Three pounds is a lot of money."

"Yeah, but the