The Stolen 17

I don't own these characters; I just like to spend time with them. No other profit to be had.

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Friday Evening

Tom stood with a wet cloth pressed against the cut on his cheek, as Matt saddled his horse. Tom had come to shortly after the events in the shack had taken place and just as the troops were finally beginning to invade the camp.

"How do you even know you can find her, Matt?" He asked the silent lawman. "I mean, don't you think it'd be easier to wait till we comb Manley's records. I'm sure there'll be something in there telling us where she's going."

"I know where she's going and who she's with," Matt said sullenly. "Annie told me before she died. I just need to stop him before he gets her there."

"But, Matt….." Tom stopped as he saw the look of his friends face.

"There are no buts to it, Tom," Matt said angrily. "I'm going."

Tom nodded looking down at the ground. "I'll go with you," he said moving over to his horse.

Matt reached out and grabbed his arm. "No. I'm going alone." The tenor of his voice and the steel in his eyes, let Tom to know there would be no arguments against his wishes.

With another nod of his head, Tom leaned back against the fence and watched as Matt mounted his horse and rode out, heading south.

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Kitty awoke to the sensation of movement beneath her. Slowly opening her eyes, she tried to make sense of her situation.

She was on her back in a wagon, she could tell, and it was moving. She saw the stars in the sky as they slipped ever slowly past. Her hands were tied in front of her and her feet were bound. Aside from that, her mind could draw no clear connection to reality.

Softly groaning at the headache movement brought, she lowered her eyes again to still the pain. Apparently the driver of the conveyance she was in, became aware of her conscious state. She felt the wagon coming to a stop and heard someone alight and come up to the side.

Opening her eyes again, she saw a ruddy faced man with bulbous eyes and a large misshapen nose staring down at her. "I was wondering how long you would sleep." He remarked. "I was kinda hopin' you'd stay out till I got camp set up, but no never mind."

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to move away from the foul odor emanating from him.

"My name's Griggs," he giggled, "but you can call me master."

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Matt rode hard, pushing the big buckskin to near beyond endurance. Though the wagon he was chasing had better than two hours head start on him, he had thought to make up that time knowing the wagon moved slower. However he had yet to see a sign of his quarry, and worry was trying ever so hard to take control.

He had left the road sometime back, instead riding the ridge which ran along side of it, favoring the higher ground. Pulling up to a stop, he took a careful survey of the countryside around him. Though trees were few, forward vision was hampered by the yet moonless night and the undulating landscape he was passing thru.

As he sat there, he felt the labored breathing of his mount and knew he could not continue to press him. Alighting, he loosened the cinch, and pulled his canteen to give the horse a drink.

Having done so, he gathered his reins and started to walk, however he had only gained a few yards when he spotted the orange red glow of a campfire, down the slope and on the other side of the road.

Coming to a halt, he fixed the location of the camp and carefully made his way down towards it. He had obtained the road and was getting closer, when he heard a cry of protest.

"Leave me alone." He heard a woman scream. "Don't touch me."

Throwing caution to the wind, he ran across the road, drawing his pistol as he ran and jumping into the middle of the camp. "Hold it," he demanded.

TBC