SINS OF THE PAST
by Jessie Syring and Jennye Jackman
Only a handful of people were in Murphy's Saloon, minding their own business while quietly relaxing, so no one paid much attention to the three strangers who came in. They paused in the doorway, letting their eyes adjust to the dim light while surveying the room.
In a corner near the bar, a black-dressed man seemed only interested in the whiskey on the table in front of him, his head tilted forward as he stared at the shot glass. Standing alone near the center of the bar, a long-haired man in a ragged gray jacket and high-crowned hat was nursing his own glass of whiskey. The balding, mustached bartender stood a few feet from him, polishing glasses with a mostly clean rag. Two cowboys were playing low stakes poker with a man who, judging by his red jacket and frilly white shirt, considered himself a professional gambler. A clean-shaven man in well-fitting cowboy clothes sat by himself at another table, slowly working his way through a bottle of whiskey.
The three newcomers walked to the bar. Vin Tanner glanced to his left as one of the men took a position only a few feet away, aware the other two had moved in on his right. The first man ordered whiskey and downed it in one swift motion, then turned.
"You Vin Tanner?" he asked.
Tanner looked at the man. The newcomer was ugly, his homely features marred by a jagged scar running down his left cheek into an unkempt beard. His clothing reeked of too much time on the trail without washing. Tanner glanced to his right at the two men standing attentively there.
"Who's asking?" he wanted to know, picking up his drink and casually finishing it.
A smile of crooked, tobacco-stained teeth spread across the scarred man's face. "I reckon you are." He unfolded a piece of paper. "And so' does this here poster."
There was no mistaking the likeness on the wanted poster.
Tanner turned from the bar but froze as he felt the barrel of a gun poke him in the back. All activity at the poker table stopped as the participants watched. Ezra Standish folded his cards and glanced to the dark corner.
Chris Larabee raised his head and sat up straight. His blue eyes briefly touched Tanner, then Ezra. He pushed his chair back and quietly got to his feet.
The scarred man reached over and relieved Tanner of the sawed-off Winchester he favored in place of a revolver. As he began a thorough pat-down in search of other weapons, a cynical half-smile crossed Tanner's lips.
"If you're gonna get personal, maybe we should move this to a room at the hotel," he suggested.
The scarred man punched him in the stomach; a short and hard punch. Tanner doubled over with a groan. Larabee took advantage of the painful distraction to move toward the bounty hunter.
"I see nothing's changed in the four days I've been away. Game's over, friends," Ezra said quietly to the two cowboys. He stood up as well.
The scarred man grabbed Tanner by the front of his jacket and dragged him upright, smiling evilly. "It's along ways back to Texas, Tanner, and you don't have to be alive."
"Three to one," Larabee observed in his soft-spoken manner. "Hardly seems fair."
The man barely spared him a glance. "This is none of your business, cowboy. Stay out of it."
"Don't think I can do that."
The scarred man turned around. "You gonna try and stop us? There's three of us and only one of you."
Larabee smiled around his cigar. "Your friends won't be much help, standing behind you like that."
All three men fidgeted nervously as they realized this fact. The scarred man said, "This man's a killer, wanted in Texas."
"This, my friend, is hardly Texas," drawled Ezra from behind and to one side of the other two bounty hunters.
"Let him go," said Larabee.
The scarred man rubbed his jaw. "Maybe you got a point," he said slowly.
Then he grabbed for his pistol. Larabee drew his own Colt. Tanner plowed into the scarred man from behind, knocking his aim off and taking himself away from the pistol at his back. Ezra drew his own revolver as the remaining patrons scattered.
In spite of Tanner's interference, the bounty hunter's first shot whined only inches from Larabee's head. The gunslinger flinched away and fired at one of the men who had been behind Tanner. The man staggered but didn't fall and didn't drop his gun.
Ezra spun away from the two shots the third bounty hunter fired at him. His return shot hit the back wall as the bounty hunter scrambled for cover. Ezra took the scant cover offered by a support beam.
Larabee reached the struggling forms of Tanner and the scarred man. The bounty hunter outweighed the former buffalo hunter by at least fifty pounds, but Tanner was wiry and strong. Though pinned by the bounty hunter, Vin managed to keep the gun twisted away from him, nearly breaking the man's trigger finger in the process. Larabee grabbed the bounty hunter by the collar and dragged him back.
Something heavy smashed into Larabee's shoulders, staggering him. He twisted around, forgetting the scarred bounty hunter as he faced the new threat. He had a brief glimpse of a clean shaven face before a rifle butt slammed into the side of his head, and he crumpled to the floor.
Tanner had managed to wrench free the bounty hunter's pistol and was tracking the man Larabee had wounded when a bullet splintered the floor near his leg. He turned and saw the neatly, dressed cowboy standing over Larabee, rifle pressed to his temple.
"Drop it, Mr. Tanner," he ordered, "or I'll put a bullet in this hero's head."
Tanner held his empty hand up and pointed the revolver at the ceiling. "Just take it easy," he said. He eased the hammer down, then set the revolver on the floor and pushed it away.
"You, too, gambling man."
Ezra's revolver joined Tanner's on the floor, then he raised his hands to shoulder level. The scarred bounty hunter got to his feet and retrieved his pistol.
"I can't trust you to do anything right, can I Jake?" asked the neatly-dressed man. "You were supposed to stay out of town until I contacted you in another two or three days. Hank, see to Mr. Tanner's discomfort and tie him tight"
The uninjured bounty hunter took a rawhide thong from his belt and moved to Tanner. As Hank bound Tanner's hands behind him and pulled him to his feet, the leader looked at the wounded man. The man was pale, his left sleeve soaked with blood.
"How bad is it?"
"The bastard broke my arm," the man gasped through clenched teeth.
The leader took a step toward Ezra. "There a doctor in this town?"
"There is," admitted the Southerner, "but I'm afraid he's a friend of Mr. Tanner's."
"And probably on his way here with whatever other friends Tanner has." The leader turned suddenly, and pressed the rifle barrel against the base of Larabee's skull. "Move your hand another inch, Mr. Larabee, and I will kill you." He kicked the ivory-handled revolver out of reach. "Get up. Very slowly."
Larabee pushed himself to his hands and knees, rubbing the side of his head. Hatred burned in his eyes as he got shakily to his feet.
"How'd you find me?" asked Tanner.
"Read a newspaper story about how you and Mr. Larabee killed twenty men bent on stringing up an innocent man. Move over by the door, Mr. Larabee. You too, gambler. Hank, stay with him. Jake, you keep an eye on Tanner."
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The first shot had brought Buck Wilmington and J.D. Dunne at a run from the jail. Nathan Jackson and Josiah Sanchez had arrived before the sound of the last shot rolled away. The four men took cover across the street in front of the hotel, watching the doors and windows of the saloon. No one emerged.
"What's going on?" asked Nathan.
"Don't ask me," Buck said sourly. "I just got here."
"Mr. Jackson! Mr. Wilmington! Over here!"
Buck recognized the pale face peering cautiously around the comer to his left as Mary Travis. She beckoned for the four men to join her. Keeping low, they left cover and hurried around the corner. The town undertaker, Virgil Watson from the hardware store, and the bartender were standing with Mary between the buildings.
'What happened in there?" Buck asked the saloon keeper.
"Three bounty hunters came after Tanner. Larabee tried to stop 'em, and all hell broke loose." The man gestured toward the saloon. "I didn't hang around to find out what happened. I came out the back."
Mary pushed a stray lock of blonde hair back from her face. "What are you going to do?" she asked Buck.
"Try and keep them from leaving," Buck declared. "Nathan, you and J.D. get around back of the saloon. Get around where you can get in if you have to."
The black gentleman and the youngster took off. They skirted around the back of the hotel and headed past the post office before crossing to the same side of the street as the saloon.
Buck found himself missing Tanner's sharp shooting abilities as he looked at Josiah. "Do you think you and your rifle would do any good up on the balcony?"
The big man looked toward the hotel balcony and hefted his Winchester. "Yep."
He headed for the stairs leading to the second floor. Buck watched him go, then became aware that Mary was watching him, her hands on her hips.
"Just why are bounty hunters after Mr. Tanner?" she asked, her voice cool and suspicious.
Buck's thick mustache spread as he grinned. "You're going to have to ask him that," he said, tipping his hat. "Excuse me."
Before he could move back to his position, he heard Ezra calling his name. He jogged around the comer and took a position behind some crates. No one had come out of the saloon yet, but he could see vague shadows past the doorway.
"Buck," Ezra called again, "if you're out there, hold your fire. We're coming out."
Ezra emerged first, keeping hands at shoulder level. A tall, lean man followed closely, warily eying the apparently deserted street. Tanner came next, a bearded man directly behind him. Another stranger, this one with a blood-soaked shirt, came out next. Larabee emerged, not bothering to raise his hands. He paused in the doorway to light a fresh cigar, then stepped to one side. The leader of the bounty hunters brought up the rear.
J.D. peered around the corner of the saloon. He knew Nathan was waiting on the other side of the building, and he could see Josiah on the hotel balcony. He started to bring up his guns. Mentally he had a quick vision of Buck slapping him alongside the head and yelling at him the youngster lowered the pistols and waited.
"We're riding out of here," declared the neatly-dressed bounty hunter. "We're taking Mr. Tanner and the gambler with us. If nobody follows, we'll send the gambler home." He gave Larabee a half-smile. "You're just too dangerous to bring along. Go make yourself comfortable on the steps and don't move."
Larabee sat on the top step near a support post. He glanced at a brass spittoon only a few inches from his left knee. He looked up and locked eyes with Tanner and Ezra for a brief moment, then nodded almost imperceptibly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
The wounded man mounted first, then Ezra climbed aboard the horse he was directed to. The scarred man boosted Tanner into the saddle. Maintaining a grip on Tanner's reins, he got on his own horse. The leader retreated to his own milling horse while the lean bounty hunter lifted his foot toward the stirrup.
Ezra twitched his right arm and felt his Derringer sleeve gun slide comfortably into his palm. He pointed at the wounded man and pulled the trigger. At such close range, the .45-caliber bullet drove the bounty hunter off his horse. Ezra then slid off the right side of the borrowed horse, putting its bulk between himself and the other bounty hunters.
When Ezra made his first move, Larabee grabbed the spittoon and hurled it at the leader. The missile struck his rifle instead, knocking it out of his hands. The man swore as dark, thick, smelly liquid splattered across his face and chest and burned his eyes. He fumbled for his pistol, and Larabee rolled off the steps as a wild shot ricocheted off the brick wall behind him.
Tanner swung his right leg over the horse's neck and slid off its back just after Ezra fired his shot. He ran for cover, hunching over to make himself as small a target as possible. Fighting his panicking horse, the scarred man fired a shot at him. Tanner slipped and fell to one knee, and the bullet went high.
Nathan emerged from cover, firing at the bounty hunters as he helped Tanner to his feet. He gave him a helpful push in the direction of the corner and followed. A shot from Josiah's rifle knocked the scarred man to the ground.
The lean man was struggling to control his own horse and shoot at the same time. The leader, blinking back tears, had caught the reins of a horse before it could flee in panic and was trying to mount.
Larabee heard a shrill whistle and turned toward the sound. J.D. was standing a dozen feet away. He held up one of his revolvers, then tossed it underhand. Larabee caught it, turned, and fired. The bearded bounty hunter had staggered to his feet and was shooting wildly. Larabee's round caught him in the chest only a moment before bullets from Buck and Josiah struck him.
"Thanks," said Tanner as Nathan cut the rawhide thong holding his wrists.
"Don't mention it. Here." Nathan grabbed his rifle from where it leaned against the wall and held it out. "Figured you could use this."
The lean bounty hunter was trying to get a bead-on Ezra. Reduced to only one bullet in his Derringer, Ezra didn't dare fire wildly. The borrowed horse kept trying to escape his hold on the reins, rearing and whinnying, and its actions kept the lean bounty hunter from getting a clear shot.
"Let's get out of here!" yelled the leader, finally getting settled on his horse.
The seven companions concentrated their attention on the two remaining riders. A shot from Tanner's rifle dropped the lean man as the leader got his horse under control and rode hard from the town.
Larabee stepped out from cover and looked around. J.D. looked a little green around the edges. The gunslinger called his name, and he held out the borrowed gun. "Thanks for the loan."
J.D. mutely took the weapon back and holstered it as Larabee headed into the saloon to retrieve his own weapon and resume his drinking. Nathan was checking the downed bounty hunters, seeing if he could do anything for them. Ezra straightened his clothing and dusted himself off.
Buck strolled over, followed by Josiah. "Never gets any easier, does it?" observed the dark-haired man.
"'Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord,'" quoted Josiah. Then he smiled. "But we are righteous."
Nathan straightened, a look of distaste on his face. "Help me get these men over to the undertaker."
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Larabee stared at the contents of his shot glass, not really seeing the amber-colored liquid there. Movement caught his eye and he looked up. Mary Travis was standing across the table from him, a disapproving look on her face.
"Didn't think I'd ever see you in here," he observed, looking into his glass again.
"I wanted to talk to you and you wouldn't come see me."
"I didn't see much reason to."
Mary put her hands on her hips. "I'm here to ask you and your... friends to leave town," she said.
Larabee leaned back in his chair and looked at her, his expression unchanged. Mary set her jaw firmly, resolved to go on with what she had to say.
"I know my father-in-law hired you to keep the peace when he's gone. But he doesn't know what this town is like. What it was like. Four Corners was a quiet town once." The next words came out in a rush. "We've had more violence since you moved here than we had in the previous two months. What happened here today is because people like you are living here."
"No, ma'am. That had nothing to do with it."
Though quietly spoken, those words held a hard edge that caused her to stiffen. The blue eyes staring at her held no warmth. "What caused it then, Mr. Larabee?" she asked with forced lightness.
"You did, ma'am."
"I did?" Mary couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. "What do you mean?"
"Those men came here today because they read your story about me and Vin saving Nathan from those drunken cowboys some weeks back. If you'd minded your own business, this never would have happened."
"Is what they said true? Is Mr. Tanner a fugitive?"
"That's his business. Not yours." Larabee downed his whiskey and stood up. "Ma'am."
He put on his hat and strode from the saloon. Mary reached the bat-wing doors as he mounted his horse. She watched as he rode out of town..
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Tanner heard the horse approaching. He glanced over his shoulder and recognized the horse and its black clad rider. Larabee left his black gelding tied next to Tanner's brown, then walked up the hill to join him. Tanner sat on a large boulder where he had a clear view of the town and surrounding countryside. The red hues in an increasingly darker sky seemed to hold his attention for now.
"Nice view," observed Larabee, sitting beside him and pushing his hat back to lay on his shoulders. Tanner didn't say anything. "You okay?"
Tanner nodded. "Just hasn't been one of my better days." He was quiet for a long moment again. "I guess my past finally caught up to me."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"I dunno yet. Judge Travis has me 'til the end of the month. I've never been one to run out before a job is through."
"I think he'd understand."
"Yeah, but I'd be runnin' out on you boys, too."
Larabee shrugged. "I think they'd understand. Hell, I do." He cocked his head to look at Tanner. "When you do go, let me know. I might just decide to come along."
This time Tanner looked at him. "What the hell for?"
Larabee smiled. "Well, you once told me Tascosa had pretty women. I just might want to see for myself."
Tanner grinned. "I'll keep that in mind." Larabee rose and started back to the horses. "Chris?" Tanner said.
Larabee paused, a black shape among the dark shadows. "Thanks. For everything."
"Sure."
Larabee retrieved his horse and rode back to town. Tanner stayed where he was, enjoying the peace and quiet.
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Buck paused at the door of the restaurant, smiling politely and tipping his hat to an elderly woman and her teenaged daughter as they emerged from the establishment. The girl blushed at the unexpected attention, but her mother "harumphed" and hurried her away. Buck turned away, smiling: the girl was about ten years too young for more than a friendly gesture. He walked into the restaurant and removed his hat.
Nathan, and Josiah were sitting at one table, finishing a breakfast of steak and eggs. J.D. sat by himself looking at a menu. Neither Ezra, Larabee, nor Tanner were present, but Buck wasn't surprised; Larabee and Tanner would have been up since sunrise, and Ezra probably wouldn't be up before noon.
"Morning, all," Buck greeted. Moving to J.D.'s table, he hung his hat and gunbelt from the back of a chair and sat down with a sigh. "What sounds good, kid?"
Before J.D. could answer, a smiling woman in a plain gingham dress brought a cup and placed it in front of J.D. "There you are. Have you decided what you'd like?"
He smiled and handed her the menu. "I'll have pancakes, ham, and two fried eggs. Please."
"Make it two," Buck told the woman. She left, and he turned his attention to the steaming liquid in front of J.D. "Now what's that you're drinking?"
"Hot chocolate."
"Hot chocolate?" Buck snorted. "That's no drink for a man. 'Course, I guess a kid like you wouldn't know that."
J.D.'s ears turned red and he opened his mouth to protest. His words died unsaid, though, as the restaurant door swung open and Larabee walked in. Josiah got to his feet immediately, sensing that something was wrong.
"Trouble, boys," announced Larabee.
The others were instantly on their feet. "What's wrong?" asked Nathan.
"Vin's gone."
Without another word, Larabee turned and strode out of the restaurant. The others followed. J.D. hastily sipped at the hot chocolate, burning his tongue, before Buck grabbed his arm and dragged him along.
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Josiah and Nathan walked to the top of the rocky knob where Larabee stood, the cool wind pressing his black duster against his legs. The fair-haired man glanced back at their approach, but his attention was focused to the east. The expressions on the faces of both men were grim.
"Looks like he was jumped at his horse," said Nathan. "There's signs of a fight down by the tree. And we found this." He held up a brass tube.
Larabee immediately recognized Tanner's spyglass. His shoulders sagged and he lowered his head. "He probably wasn't expecting trouble after I left."
"After yesterday?" snorted Nathan.
"Couldn't know the bounty hunter'd come back," Josiah observed.
"I should have known," said Larabee.
Nathan said, "Anyway, we sent Buck with Ezra and J.D. to buy supplies."
"That's a start." Larabee turned, determination burning in his blue eyes. "Josiah, do you think you can catch that bounty hunter?"
Josiah cocked his head to one side and peered at the sun: it was more than a handspan above the horizon.
"He's got no more'n half a day's head start." He shrugged slightly. "We'll catch him."
"Not us. You and Nathan. I want the two of you to find them and follow them."
"Just... follow them?" Nathan repeated blankly. A faint smile tugged at one corner of Josiah's mouth. "And what are you and the others going to be doing while we're following them?"
"Riding hard for Tascosa."
Larabee started down the hill to the waiting horses.
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Moving awkwardly because of his chained hands, Tanner untied his bandana and soaked part of it in canteen water. His seal brown gelding followed the bounty hunter's ill-tempered pinto, kept close by a rope running from its neck to the pinto's back cinch ring.
Tanner used the wet cloth to carefully wipe dried blood away from the side of his head. He winced as he pressed too hard at the swelling at his right temple. Setting his teeth, he cleaned away the blood and carefully dabbed at the cut over his eye. He still wasn't sure what the bounty hunter had struck him with, but it had knocked him out and opened a two-inch cut.
He laid the bandana across the fork of his saddle and tilted his head back, squinting at the all too bright sun and surrounding countryside. The sun had risen a few hours earlier. They had put plenty of miles behind them since last night, maintaining a grueling pace. At sun-up, on the edge of flatter country, they had paused a short time to let the horses rest.
The flat country discouraged him. There wasn't much cover; if the others were following him, the bounty hunter would be able to see them coming from miles away. They had turned north since entering the flatlands. And Tanner figured the bounty hunter planned on staying in the open country as much as possible.
"Looking for your friends?"
Tanner turned his gaze toward the bounty hunter. "They don't even know I'm missing," he said. "I was supposed to be hunting, wouldn't be back until tomorrow."
"Then what're you looking for?"
Tanner had to admit that the man was observant. "Indians," he lied. "We had some trouble with Apaches a few weeks back. 'Sides, you never know what'll pop up around here." He pulled his feet out of the stirrups, letting his legs' hang free. "I've never been this way. I came from the south, through Purgatorio."
"What is the difference? You'll never see it again."
Tanner winced at the implied threat in those words. They rode in silence for a while, then he asked, "You got a name? I ain't gonna call you 'sir.'"
That turned the bounty hunter in his saddle to glare at him. The man let the remark slide, though. "Name's Elijah James Thompson. My friends call me E.J." Thompson turned forward again. "You can call me Mr. Thompson."
Tanner shrugged; he really didn't care one way or the other. "You done this sort of thing before? Mr. Thompson?" he added sarcastically.
"You're not the first man I've brought in. You might be the last, though."
Tanner snorted. "I ain't worth that much."
"You are to me."
Thompson's tone put an end to the conversation. Tanner arched his back and rotated his shoulders, then relaxed once more and considered the implications of that last statement.
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Josiah and Nathan took a packhorse and set out immediately. By noon, Buck and Larabee had purchased four additional riding horses -- the best available -- while Ezra and J.D. bought cartridges. The four men then gathered at the hitching rails in front of the saloon, saddling their horses and securing their gear. Mary found them there.
"Mrs. Travis," Buck said, tipping his hat in greeting as he moved to his gray horse's off side to secure his saddlebags.
"Mr. Wilmington," she acknowledged. Then she continued past him toward Chris. "Mr. Larabee, I'd like a word with you." He finished tightening his cinch and turned his attention to her. "You're leaving town?"
"Isn't that what you wanted yesterday," he observed quietly..
"What about the work you're doing for my father-in-law?"
Ezra smiled at her as he handed four boxes of cartridges to Larabee. "I believe, Miz Travis, you can consider this our resignation."
Larabee put the boxes into his saddlebag, then took a folded piece of paper out of a pocket and handed it to the woman. "This explains everything," he said, untying his reins from the hitching rail. "See that Judge Travis gets it."
He swung into the saddle and backed the black away from the rail, leading his extra horse. The others were already mounted. Larabee started down the street and didn't look back. The others followed, tipping their hats to Mary as they passed.
Mary watched until they turned a corner and were out of sight. Then she regarded the paper in her hand. She unfolded it and carefully smoothed out the creases. She straightened in surprise as she read the message there.
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With Josiah's uncanny tracking skills, he and Nathan caught up with Tanner and the bounty hunter by late afternoon. They stayed near the edge of the valley where they could see Tanner and his captor as distant specks. Nathan used Tanner's spyglass to monitor them more closely.
"Looks like they're sticking to the middle of the valley," he said. "If we get any closer, there's going to be trouble."
"Yep."
"So how are we going to keep an eye on them?"
"We know where they're going." The priest smiled enigmatically. "We'll find a way."
"I hope you're right, my friend."
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Tanner leaned back against the bole of the tree with a tired sigh. There was just enough slack in the chain that he could walk around a little and enjoy the warmth of the fire, but not enough that he could get into mischief. He made himself as comfortable as he could and closed his eyes.
Elijah James Thompson. He opened his eyes to mere slits and considered his captor. Had they crossed paths in the past? He didn't think they had.
A sharp rock poked uncomfortably into his back. Tanner shifted around and dug it out. It was fist-sized with some nice jagged edges. He looked at the rock, then glanced at Thompson. The bounty hunter was watching him like a hawk. Moonlight reflected off the barrel of his .45. Tanner tossed the rock off to one side.
"Smart boy," said Thompson.
Tanner settled back down. He could have bounced the rock off the bounty hunter's head. Even if the shot had been a good one, though, Thompson's chosen sleeping spot was way out of reach. He was sure that uprooting the tree was out of the question.
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The remaining friends rode hard after leaving Four Comers, stopping only when they and their horses were too tired to go on. After a few hours of sleep in a cold camp, Larabee roused them. "Rise and shine, kiddies," he called, nudging the sleepers with the toe of his boot "We've got miles to cover."
Ezra peeled open one eye. "Good lord," he moaned, "the sun isn't even up yet."
"I'm off to get that up now." Larabee strode toward the horses.
J.D. sat up, pushing back his blankets. "The sun won't be up for at least three more hours."
Ezra stared at him. "And how would you know that?"
"It has to do with the position of the stars. They use the same method on cattle drives." J.D. stood up and looked skyward. "You see those stars? That's--"
"We don't want to hear it, J.D.," Buck stated emphatically, turning his boots upside down to evict anything that might have crawled into them overnight.
Ezra sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and shivering slightly in the chill air. "Has anyone besides myself considered the possibility that our wild riding might be for naught? I mean, if Mr. Tanner and the bounty hunter are riding this hard, they'll reach the railhead several hours before we do."
"What's the matter, Ezra, your butt getting sore?" asked Buck.
"As a matter of fact, it is."
"You could always go back," offered J.D.
Ezra glowered at him. "Mr. Tanner still owes me the interest from that three hundred dollars I loaned him. Besides, my question is a reasonable one."
Buck began rolling his bedding. "Chris and me talked about it while you two were sleeping. We figure the bounty hunter won't be riding as hard as we are. He'd wear himself out, and Vin could jump him;"
"So the bounty hunter travels at a slower pace, and we get to Tascosa before he does," finished Ezra. "But what do we do once we get there?"
"I've got a few ideas," Larabee's voice announced from the shadows, "but I'm leaving without you if you don't get a move on."