Ghost Canyon by John Russell Fearn & Matthew Japp

Author:John Russell Fearn & Matthew Japp
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Arizona, westerns, cattle rustling, drifters, sheriffs
ISBN: 9781434442604
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2014-01-14T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

At the entrance to Star Canyon, Terry drew rein and looked about him. His followers gathered around in a group, their horses moving restlessly.

“I guess there are enough of us to make a proper search,” Terry said finally. “I’ll go straight forward along the canyon; an’ you three fellas come with me. The moonlight’s bright enough for us to spot anythin’ unusual. Three more of you go up the left-hand cliff face, and another three up the right. Search every rock and crack and gully. We’ll meet down here when we’ve finished. Okay? Let’s go, then.”

The various horsemen, their guns at the ready, deployed in the various directions Terry had indicated. He himself dropped from his horse and, with the three men he had ordered to work with him, began a careful study of the canyon floor. The moon had risen high now, at the full, its brilliance painting everything in a harsh pattern of black and white. Prints in the dust were easily distinguishable; so were the surrounding rocks and cliff faces.

Inch by inch, foot by foot, the ground was covered—until at length the narrowest neck of the canyon was gained. Terry came to a halt and pointed.

“That’s the spot, fellas—see where those tracks vanish? Our job is to find why.”

The men with him stared up at the cliff faces, their tops clear and grey against the shimmering stars. Dimly visible were the silhouettes of the other men investigating at the summit.

“I don’t rightly see, Sheriff, how four horses and men could disappear right here,” one of the men muttered. “Ain’t even’ reasonable. Can’t turn aside and can’t go up—’less they got wings.”

“Fact remains, they vanished,” Terry snapped. “And so did my wife, from right off her horse. She gave one scream—but by the time I’d gotten here she’d gone.”

“Yeah? Sounds like this cliff face may swing aside somehow. Naturally balanced rocks ain’t so unusual.”

“I thought of that,” Terry responded. “I can’t find a trace anywhere. The cliff faces are solid.”

There was silence for a moment, then a shout came floating from above.

“Any luck down there, Sheriff?”

“Not a thing,” Terry called back. “How’s it with you?”

“No dice. Ain’t nothing but rocks and tableland. I guess it wouldn’t be possible to lift four horses an’ men up here with ropes, if that was how it was done.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t,” Terry muttered, looking at the men around him. “All right, let’s eliminate possible methods until we get around to the right one. They couldn’t go upwards: it would be impossible to haul such weights without winches and cranes—and if Hilda had been dragged upward I’d have arrived to see it before she could have been hauled clear up the full distance.… And it isn’t a moveable cliff: I proved that in daylight.”

“So the only answer is the canyon floor—or ghosts,” one of the men said.

“It isn’t ghosts,” Terry assured him. “Swainson’s admitted that much. It’s all very material and logical—so that brings us to this canyon floor. Okay, we all concentrate on that.

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