Sidewinders: Deadwood Gulch by William W. Johnstone & J.A. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone & J.A. Johnstone [Johnstone, William W.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp
Published: 2011-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

Bo still thought they should wait until morning to begin the search, but Holbrook wouldn’t hear of it. He liked Bo’s idea that the outlaw hideout was located somewhere on top of one of the ridges and wanted to put it to the test.

As the troops got ready to move out, Chloride came up to Bo and Scratch and said quietly, “You fellas be careful out there. I’ve seen men like that lieutenant before. They think they know everything, and before you know it, they’re neck-deep in trouble. Don’t let him get you killed.”

“We’ll try not to,” Scratch said.

Bo added, “I’ve got a hunch Sergeant Gustaffson knows what he’s doing. He can steer the lieutenant in the right direction.”

Chloride grunted. “If Holbrook will listen to him. I’m bettin’ the odds are against that.”

“Don’t worry about us, old-timer,” Scratch said with a grin. “We can take care of ourselves.”

Chloride snatched his hat off his head and said, “There you go again with that old-timer business! I swear—” He stopped short and shrugged. “What the hell. I am older than you. Probably ain’t many who can say that!” He clapped his hat back on his head and stuck out his hand. “Good luck, boys.”

The Texans both shook with him, then mounted up. Gustaffson had the troopers ready to ride. Holbrook said, “Give the order, Sergeant.”

Gustaffson bellowed the command and waved the men forward as Holbrook, Bo, and Scratch led the way. Some of the miners turned out to watch. They waved their caps over their heads as the cavalrymen trotted away, moving deeper into the canyon.

As Keefer had said, after the riders had gone about a mile, the slope of the canyon to their right fell away at a gentler angle. It was still covered with trees and rocks, but Bo thought that if the troopers dismounted, they might be able to lead their horses to the top. He pointed that out to Holbrook and suggested, “Let Scratch and me try it first.”

“Very well,” the lieutenant agreed. He signaled a halt.

The Texans rode to the base of the slope and swung down from their saddles. Holding tight to the reins, they started up. The horses balked a little at first but soon came on, climbing the slope with relative ease. Bo and Scratch tried to pick the route that would give the animals the least trouble.

When they made it to the top of the ridge, they found themselves with a spectacular view spread out before them. The late afternoon sun washed over the Black Hills in all their rugged glory. Down in the gulches, people got used to being closed in with dark slopes all around them and only a strip of sky above. Up here a man could breathe better, it seemed to Bo.

“Do we have to go back down there and fetch that stiff-necked lieutenant?” Scratch asked.

Bo chuckled. “I reckon we’d better. He and those troopers will come in handy when we find the Devils.”

“You don’t figure we could handle that bunch of owlhoots by ourselves?”

“Well, maybe.

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