Man in the Saddle by Matt Chisholm

Author:Matt Chisholm
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wild west, outlaws, gunslingers, peter watts, matt chisholm, western pulp fiction, sam spur, cy james
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Chapter Twelve

Two nights after they had crossed the river, Pagley made camp in a motte of trees many miles to the south. He had held up pretty well under the hard riding and was pleased with himself. The girl had scarcely spoken a word to him all the time. He knew that her mind had traveled north-west with Spur, just as his had done.

He knew then as they cleaned their plates after their evening meal that he could not go through with this. He had known it from the start when he had given Spur his word.

He built a smoke and lounged back against his saddle, looking across the fire at the girl.

“What’s the nearest settlement?” he asked.

“There’s two ranch-houses maybe thirty miles south of here.”

“Good,” he said and got up to kick dirt over the fire. They both turned in, both tired.

In the morning when she awoke, the girl found herself alone. She discovered a scrap of paper on a stick stuck in the ground. On it was written in painful scrawl:

“Goin back after Spur. You can make it on your lonesome from here on. Luck.

Pagley.”

She balled the paper in her hands and threw it away. “The Goddam stupid fool,” she said.

The damned Indian creeping out on her like that! Both of them intending to be with Spur and all this good time wasted. Two whole days!

She slapped her blanket-saddle on the bay pony and loaded up the pack-horse. Then, mounting, she headed for the river at a fast lope. By noon she had caught Pagley jogging steadily north. He spotted her almost as soon as she sighted him and waited for her.

His greeting was: “Hell, girl, now you messed everythin5 up good.”

“It’s you who messed things,” she told him angrily. “I meant to leave you at the ranch and then head back.”

Pagley grinned wryly.

“Spur,” he said, “made me promise I’d leave you someplace safely.”

“Damn him to hell,” she returned, “he made me promise the same thing about you.”

“You turn back,” the Indian said. “This is going to be bad enough without Spur worryin’ about you.”

“You have to be alive to worry.”

Pagley pleaded with her.

“Be a good girl and don’t give me trouble.”

“Pagley,” she said, “you can argue till you’re black in the face. I’m goin’ with you or without you.”

They argued for an hour and at the end of it, they trailed north side by side with their pack-horses tagging along behind.

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