Chapter 6: Mark's Discovery

The sun was a little higher in the sky when Mark woke again. Scanning the clearing, he thought he was alone again but then spotted Will standing with his back to him several yards away, feet shoulder width apart and his hand hovering near the leather sheath holding his pistol. With a quick fluid movement he flipped the pistol out, paused and re-holstered. He watched him repeat the process several times, apparently unaware Mark was awake.

With curiosity getting the better of him, Mark slowly rose to his feet, thankful this time there was no spinning sensation. His stomach also felt better. But as he started walking across the campsite, he stepped on a twig which made a large cracking sound in the quiet clearing.

Immediately Will spun about and Mark stepped back startled as he found himself staring down the barrel of a nickel-plated six-shooter.

Will immediately raised the gun out of his face. "Don't ever sneak up on me like that again! You nearly got yourself killed!" he snapped harshly.

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle ya," Mark apologized. Will's face was pinched into an angry scowl. "I just wanted to see what you were doin' that's all."

Sighing irritably, Will re-holstered the weapon. "Forget it." Then added a little softer, "I'm sorry I yelled out you. Guess I'm just a little edgy."

Looking the kid up and down, Will was pleased to see he had a little more color. "Feeling better?"

Mark nodded.

"You gave me quite a scare there."

"I'm sorry." Mark glanced over at the gun belt. "So, what were ya doin'?"

Will shrugged almost as if a little embarrassed. "Just practicing. Like to keep my skills up."

"Can I watch?" Mark asked. He always enjoyed watching his father practice with the rifle. What his father could do with a rifle, few men could manage with a pistol.

Will shrugged again. Mark settled down to watch as Will practiced, whipping the six-shooter out fast and easy then did a couple of fancy spins for Mark's benefit before flipping it back into the holster.

Mark was dually impressed. Smiling, he said, "Gee that was great Will. Where'd ya learn to do that?"

"Picked it up here and there," Will replied, nonchalantly, although there was a slight sheepish grin on his face.

"You sure are fast. Almost as good as my Pa."

Will brow's knitted together curiously. "Oh? Your Pa's pretty good?"

Mark nodded. "But he doesn't use a pistol. He uses a rifle."

Will laughed. "No man with a rifle can outdraw a pistol kid."

"My Pa can. He's about the best there ever is," Mark said matter-of-factly.

Will looked skeptically down at him, but Mark was too busy admiring the Colt to notice. "Rifle ain't nothing compared to a Colt .45."

"You don't know my Pa's rifle. He designed it himself. Probably not another one like it anywhere," Mark said with pride. Will frowned.

"Sure is a beauty, Will," Mark said.

Seeing his interest, Will held it out to him. "Want to hold it?" Mark looked up hesitantly, biting his lip. Reluctantly he shook his head. "Go on, what are ya waiting for? Scared?"

Mark look indignantly at him. "'Course not! It's just that my pa doesn't approve of me handlin' a pistol."

Smirking somewhat, Will replied, "I've been handling one since I was near on fourteen. My fingers were so small I could barely cock the hammer." Unloading the bullets from the chamber, Will extended the gun out to him. "Here, go ahead. It can't hurt you now."

With renewed interest, Mark slowly took it. It felt heavy in his hand as he examined it closely. It truly was a beautiful gun. "Where'd ya get it?" he asked, fingering the ivory handle which had a star burst designed etched into it.

"My uncle gave it to me a long time ago. But, I had to keep it hidden from my pa."

"Why?"

Will merely shrugged. "Pa and my uncle never got on too well," was all Will would say.

Mark examined the heavy pistol for several minutes, but he felt a little dishonest going against his Pa's wishes. With thoughts on his father once again, Mark carefully handed the gun back. Will saw the sudden change in his expression as he reloaded the bullets into the empty chamber and replaced the gun in its holster.

They stood awkwardly for a moment, but just then Will's horse whinnied, making the young man dart his head towards the sound. Walking over, he quieted the horse with a gentle stroke to the muzzle as he glanced about.

Again Mark thought his behavior odd but his attention was once more focused on finding his father. "Will, you said we would talk later about takin' me back to the river," Mark broached the subject hesitantly.

The young man sighed. "I know, but it's kinda complicated."

"Why?" Mark paused. "Is somethin' wrong?"

Will stared at him. "Why do you ask that?"

Mark shrugged. "Ya just seem kind of nervous like you're expectin' someone to jump out after ya."

Rubbing the back of his neck tiredly, he replied, "Guess I am at that." Without elaborating further, he walked back over to the campfire and picked up the canteen shaking it gently. "Gonna need more water. There's a small spring not far from here."

Mark bit his lip but clearly wasn't about to give up. "My Pa's gonna be real worried when he can't find me," he insisted.

"I know, but for now you need to stay with me, least till I can figure this out."

His head snapped. "But why? I don't understand," Mark pressed with a hint of stubbornness.

Will suddenly got down in Mark's face. "Look kid, I'm probably in a heap already because of you!"

Mark's mouth compressed irritably, unsatisfied with Will's answer. Seeing the stubborn streak in him, Will added sternly, "It's just the way it's gotta be for now." He refused to elaborate.

Frustrated, Mark stormed back over to his bedroll and sat down. He needed to find his father and couldn't understand why Will was being evasive.

Then to Mark's surprise, Will said, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Where are you going?" Mark asked anxiously.

"Never you mind. You just stay put, ya hear? This is no place for you to wander off and get lost."

"I can take care of myself," Mark insisted crossing his arms defiantly.

"Like ya did back in the river?"

The remark seemed to shut Mark up momentarily, but he still glared back at Will indignantly.

"I won't be gone long," Will said and departed before Mark could get another word out.

Immediately after Will left though, Mark was on his feet. Though he had no idea which direction the river was, he was determined to find his pa with or without Will's help. Perhaps he could follow Will's trail back to the river. Lucas had taught him a lot about tracking and he was pretty good at it, even for a kid.

Mark found his jacket draped across a branch. It was almost dry. As he was putting in on, he felt something bulging in the pocket. He reached in and pulled the object out. It was the snake charm Billy Whitefeather had given him only yesterday. He stared at it for several seconds before carefully replacing it. Mark looked around for his hat, but guessed he'd lost it in the river.

Just as he was heading out of the campsite Will returned. "Where are you going Mark?"

Mark gave Will a determined look. "Back to the river!"

Resting his hands on his gunbelt Will said, "I thought I told you to stay put."

"No!" Mark said firmly. "I don't know why you won't take me back, or what you're afraid of, but I need to find my pa!"

With that, Mark started to walk past him only to be grabbed by the forearm. "Look, this isn't a game!" Will said harshly. "Havin' you here with me is the last thing I need right now, but I just can't let you wander off and get lost."

But Mark would not be swayed. Stubbornly he compressed his lips. "Then take me back."

"It's not that easy."

Will released him and paced irritably back and forth. "I should have never brought you here!"

Will was angry, but Mark couldn't decide whether the anger was directed at Mark or himself. Finally he seemed to come to some sort of decision. Walking over he put his hands firmly on Mark's shoulders. "Look, I'll take you back and help you find your Pa but you gotta promise me one thing."

"What?"

"That you won't say anything about me."

Mark frowned, confused. "But why Will? I don't understand. You saved my life."

But Will shook his head. "I need your solemn word. You can't mention anything about me, to your Pa or….or the Marshal, understand?"

Mark stared at Will perplexed. "You're in some kind of trouble, aren't you?"

Will laughed but it was without humor.

"I've never kept secrets from my Pa," Mark stated matter-of-factly. It was true. He and his father had always had that understanding between the two of them.

But Will was insistent. "It's the only way. If I let you go I'm taking a big risk. Not just for myself but……" Will let the rest of the sentence drop. He gripped Mark's shoulders a little tighter. "You've got to give me your solemn word."

Mark swallowed. There was such intensity in his plea that Mark felt he had little choice. "All right Will, whatever you say," he agreed reluctantly.

Will nodded and released him. He hesitated, still seeming uncertain of his decision. "Wait here while I saddle my horse."

Mark bit his lip. Whatever Will had done it couldn't have been that bad, could it? Maybe his Pa and Micah could help him out. After all he had saved Mark's life and Mark felt a strong sense of gratitude.

"Will…" Mark started to say something else but was interrupted by the sound of fast approaching hooves.

Will turned abruptly at the sound and cursed. Without further word he grabbed Mark and quickly ushered him over to the far side of the camp concealing him behind a large boulder.

"What is it?" Mark asked seeing the urgent look on Will's face.

Will gripped his shoulders. "Listen to me carefully," he said tersely. "I want you to stay right here out of sight, do you hear?"

"But why?"

"I don't have time to explain. Just do as I say! Stay here and keep quiet until I come for you!"

"All right," Mark replied confused by Will's abruptness.

Quickly turning, Will hurried back across the clearing as three men rode up hard into camp. As they dismounted Mark heard one of them bark out sharply, "I want to pull out in an hour!" His was clearly annoyed, his manner authoritative. "Will, get us some grub, we're starving. And bring me a whiskey bottle and some cloth strips."

"Lloyd, I need to talk to you." Mark heard Will say.

"Later!" the man snapped. "We've been riding hard since before dawn."

But Will seemed to hesitate looking a little perplexed. Then Mark heard him ask. "Where's Smitty?"

"Dead!" was the man's terse reply.

Will stood dumbfounded, apparently startled by the news.

The man called Lloyd glared angrily at Will. "Well, don't just stand there like an idiot! I said bring me the whiskey!"

Daring to peek a little further from behind the rock, Mark watched as Will retrieved the bottle then took a closer look at the rest of the men. Like Lloyd, they seemed to have a hard core presence about them that made Mark's inside's flutter. One of them glanced briefly over at Will as if in warning before turning to the task of unsaddling his mount. The other man stood agitatedly nearby. Older than the rest, he was shorter and thicker in the waist and chest with his belly hanging slightly over his belt.

Grabbing the bottle from Will, Lloyd twisted the cork off with his teeth. After taking a big swig he walked over to a large rock and sat down, pulling off his jacket.

"Listen Lloyd….." Will started, then stopped short. "What happened?" It was then he noticed the man's shirt sleeve was torn and covered in dried blood.

"Isn't it obvious? We ran into some trouble." Lloyd was glaring angrily at the pudgy man nearby. Grimacing he removed the dirty neckerchief from the wound.

"You've been shot!" Will declared. When he tried to examine the wound Lloyd merely jerked his arm away in disgust.

"Let it be. The bullet only grazed me." Taking one more gulp, Lloyd proceeded to pour the whiskey over the wound, gritting his teeth against the burning pain. Mark watched from his concealment as Will then applied clean cloth strips around the man's arm.

The pudgy man was already pacing anxiously back and forth. Addressing Lloyd, Mark heard him say, "I still say we should head for the border. It's less than a half day's ride from here."

"We're not going anywhere Roark until we settle our business."

"I'm telling you its too dangerous," the one called Roark replied agitatedly. "There's lawmen all over the area. They'll be on us for sure and I'm not about to go back to Galveston to be hung," he continued forcefully.

Lloyd got up into the man's face. "You're not going to weasel your way out of this Roark. I went to a lot of trouble to bust you out. We go on as planned," Lloyd snapped. "Most likely whoever's after us probably thinks were still heading for the border anyway which is fine by me. Once I get what's due me and we get up into the high country no one will be able to track us. After that it's a clean stretch into Taos. We can lay low as long as we need to and no one will ever know."

"I don't like it!" Roark argued. "That marshal was way too close."

The statement clearly seemed to annoy Lloyd all the more. "Listen you sorry piece of flesh, we would have never had the problem in the first place if you'd laid low like I told you!"

"I don't like Marshals," the second man countered, emphasizing each word.

"And I don't like men who don't follow my orders. Because of your itchy trigger finger I lost a good man and nearly got my head blown off!"

Roark growled something back that Mark couldn't hear.

"What happened Lloyd?" Will asked.

Lloyd glanced over at Will and explained. "After we split up and lost that posse out of Branagan, we ran into a couple more lawmen on the way back here. Some old marshal I've never seen before and another fella, a big guy with some sort of fancy rifle."

From his hiding place, Mark's eyes widened. "Pa!" he whispered.

Lloyd jerked his thumb irritably at the other man. "Roark here decided to take them out instead of staying out of sight."

Suddenly Mark realized what was going on. They were outlaws! And Will was part of their gang! Now he understood Will's reluctance to take him back to the river. He also understood with a sinking realization that these were the men who must have been shooting at them. He also wondered if his Pa was okay.

The men stepped further away as they took the horses to the other side of the clearing where a tether line was set up. Will said something Mark couldn't quit make out which apparently didn't set well with Lloyd. Only able to make out bits and pieces of the conversation, he looked about. Somehow he needed to get closer. He noticed a group a trees on the other side of the clearing.

Carefully he moved from behind the rock and around the parameter of the camp staying low. The men had there backs to him, and the shadows and low scrub hid his progress. Mark finally positioned himself behind a large tree. He was now less than fifteen feet away and could make out their conversation clearly.

"I'm telling you they had the make on us," Roark insisted. "I would have gotten them too except for that big guy. That trick rifle shot off rounds as fast as a pistol. I've never seen shootin' quit like it." Roark looked over at Will. "It was him that got Lloyd and took Smitty out."

"All I know is, until our business is settled, I don't want to tangle with him or that marshal again if we can avoid it, understand? Let's just hope they're too busy trying to fish that kid out of the river to bother with us."

"Kid?" Will's head snapped up.

Roark nodded. "Yeah, they had a kid with them." He laughed meanly. "When we started firing, it was just pure dumb luck the brat fell off his horse into the river. We high tailed it out of there in a hurry. Then, spent the rest of the night back-tracking it back here."

"Lloyd, I think you should know something first." Will said.

"What is it? You run any problems getting the supplies?" Lloyd asked suspiciously.

"No, and I got the wire off just like you said." Will said. "Still don't know what we needed all that stuff for though."

"You'll find out soon enough," Roark jeered and grabbed the whiskey bottle out of Will's hand. He took a large swig and wiped his mouth sloppily with the back of his hand.

Lloyd got up. "Now what about that grub?" he said.

Realizing the danger he was in, Mark back slowly away from the camp intent of making it back to the river alone. When he thought he was far enough away he turned only to barrel right into something solid. Arms reached out and grabbed him.

"Well, what do we have here?" the man asked. Mark had been so intent on listening to the conversation that he didn't realize the third man had disappeared and snuck up on him.

"Listen Lloyd, about that kid…." Will had started to say but was interrupted by Lloyd's exclamation, "What the heck is this now!"

Will spun about to see Mark being escorted into camp by the scruff of his collar. He was shoved unceremoniously to the ground in front of Lloyd.

"Found him snooping about behind the tree over there," Briggs replied.

Roark's eyes widened "It's him! That kid with the marshal!" He took an angry step towards the boy.

Will stepped between them as Mark scrambled hurriedly to his feet. "I can explain…" Will began.

"What the hell is he doing here?!" Roark demanded

Lloyd crossed his arms. "I think you have some explaining to do Will," he said quietly but the underlying tone clearly spoke of his displeasure.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Will tried to explain.

With the weight of several accusing sets of eyes on him, Will quickly relayed his story. When he finished he said, "I'm sorry Lloyd, but what was I suppose to do? I just couldn't leave him out there to die."

"That's precisely what you should have done," the outlaw barked back.

Roark rounded on. "Why you stupid no good punk! Now we're gonna have that marshal after us for sure!" He made a grab for Will but Lloyd barred his way with on outstretched arm.

"Save it!" Lloyd snapped cursing at everyone.

But Roark was livid. "Listen here, blood or no blood I'm not gonna let some stupid punk kid lead the law right to us!"

It was then Lloyd got up into Roark's face, his lips compressed into an angry line. "As I said before none of this would have happened if you hadn't been trigger happy in the first place so back off!"

Roark grumbled sourly as Lloyd turned his attention back to Will. "Were you seen by anybody? Followed?" he demanded.

"No," Will insisted. "I'm sure I wasn't followed, I swear. The kid was alone and half dead when I found him. They probably think he's drowned by now anyway."

"For our sakes you better damn well hope so because you've just created one hell of a mess!"

"I'm sorry Lloyd."

The outlaw leader grunted at Will then glared over at Mark. "Come here, kid!"

Mark hesitated briefly, looking from Will back to the older man, but then squared his shoulders and stepped forward. Feeling his arms tremble, he quickly hooked his thumbs into his back pockets trying hard not to show his fear.

"So I suppose you figured out just who we are?"

"You're a bunch of outlaws," he said boldly.

One brow rose slowly. "Precisely."

Raising his chin in the air, he looked straight at Lloyd. "Mister, my pa will be looking for me."

"Your Pa? You don't say?" Lloyd mocked.

"Yes sir." Mark hurriedly added, "My Pa, well, he's one of the best trackers around these parts. He won't stop until he finds me!"

Lloyd laughed meanly, nodding his head towards Will. "Gutsy and polite." He paused. "So, Will says he saved your life, that right?"

"Yes sir." Mark looked over at the younger man. "I'm beholding."

"Well, Will always did have a soft touch. Of course it doesn't go well with bein' an outlaw. I've warned him before it gets him nothing but trouble but it appears my nephew has failed to learn that lesson as yet."

Nephew? Mark glanced quickly from Lloyd to Will who was looking uneasily down at the ground.

Then without warning, Lloyd reached out and grabbed Mark by the back of the neck. As the steel grey eyes came level with his, Mark's widened in trepidation. "I want some straight answers, understand? What was your pa doing ridin' with the Marshal? What were they after?"

"Nothing."

He winced as Lloyd squeezed his neck. "Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not, honest mister. My Pa's owns a ranch in North Fork. We were just on our way home."

Lloyd looked skeptical. "For bein' just a rancher, your daddy's pretty good with that rifle. A little too good," he paused glancing down at the bloody sleeve.

"You don't believe this kid, do you?" Roark demanded. "Seems too much of a co-incidence that marshal bein' in the area."

"If your pa's just a rancher why is riding with a federal marshal? How many more of them are there?"

"No one else, I swear. My pa and Micah, I mean Marshal Torrance are good friends. Micah finished his business early so we all decided to ride back home together, that's all."

"What business?"

"I don't know, Micah didn't say," Mark winced.

Lloyd watched him closely for any signs that he was lying then abruptly released him. Though his neck hurt like the dickens Mark stood straight refusing to rub it. The outlaw paced back and forth, his brow was knitted down in a deep frown.

"What is it?" Briggs asked.

"Something about that big sodbuster and that fancy rifle has been bothering me ever since we ran into him."

"What of it?"

He looked down at Mark, studying him intently. "What's your daddy's name, boy?" Lloyd wanted to know.

Mark told him.

"McCain?"

"Yes, sir."

Several moments passed. Lloyd's mouth turned grimly down. "You know kid, heard once about a man with a rifle like that around these parts. They even had a nickname for him, called him the Rifleman, I believe. Now, that wouldn't be any relation would it?"

Mark nodded. "Yes sir. That's my pa." Mark said proudly.

Briggs whistled softly.

"Well now, that does present us with quite a problem." Lloyd rubbed his whiskered chin, his lips thinning grimly. "McCain and that rifle have got quite a reputation, one I don't necessarily want to tangle with if I don't have to. But we can't afford for he or that Marshal to find out about us now……"

Will, who was standing behind Mark, instinctively placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "What are you saying, Lloyd?"

Roark laughed, "What do you think! The brat's a loose end we can't afford. We need to get rid of him!"

Beneath Will's fingers, he felt Mark stiffen. "But he's just a kid!"

"Yeah, just a kid with McCain for a daddy and a Marshal friend to boot!" Lloyd said ominously.

Will stepped in front of Mark. "But you can't Lloyd," Will insisted.

"Oh, fixin' on stopping me?" Lloyd jeered. The sudden tension in the air became so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

"If I have to," Will said stepping in front of Mark, his hand slipping tentatively down to his holster. Lloyd's left eyebrow rose slowly. "Look, we can still ride out like we planned. We'll be long before they ever find him. The boy won't say anything about us, I promise."

Lloyd stared down his nephew for several long hard seconds. Then without warning he took two steps forward and suddenly hauled back and hit Will square in the jaw. Will reeled back at the impact and collided into Mark sending them both to the ground. Blood spurted from his split lip.

Lloyd towered over him with cold eyes. "If you're going to pull that on me kid you better be prepared to use it, understand!" There was a look of contempt in his eyes. "You know what your problem is, Will? You're too gullible for your own good. You really think the kid's goin' to keep his mouth shut about us? You forget I've got a hefty price on my head and Roark's got a noose waiting to be put around his neck. That Marshal's just not gonna to turn his back on that. He'll have a posse after us for sure. When are you gonna learn Will! Being soft is a luxury you can't afford! Or do I need to repeat that lesson?" Lloyd looked briefly at Mark hunched on his knees next to Will.

"No," he finally replied, unable to maintain eye contact.

Shakily Will rose to his feet and pressed a hand to his bleeding lip. He was still angry but apparently intimidated by his uncle's wrath. Lloyd let out a guttural hiss as if disgusted with the whole situation.

Mark anxiously watched the strange encounter. From the corner of his eye he could see Roark's wicked smile, apparently enjoying Will's discomfort.

Finally Lloyd had come to a decision. "All right, pack your things, boys. We're leavin' out in half an hour, soon as we get some grub."

Roark jerked his thumb towards Mark. "Want me to take care of the brat?" Mark didn't like the way Roark said that. It sent a chill down his spine.

"No. For now, he's coming with us."

Every one, including Will looked up startled.

"What purpose will that serve except to stir up a hornet's nest with the kid's old man?" Roark retorted angrily. "It's too dangerous. I say we get rid of him now!"

Lloyd threw Roark a menacing look. "Well you're not calling the shots around here, I am. The kid stays with us, for now," he repeated slowly. "Will may be right. If the kid is telling the truth and they think he's drowned they won't have any reason to come looking for us and we can put as much space between us and them as need be without drawing attention to ourselves." Lloyd looked suspiciously down at Mark. "On the other hand, if he's lying and that Marshal and McCain are part of a posse looking for us, a little insurance might not be such a bad thing. I don't want any rifle bullets flying by me again if I can avoid it. Once we've completed our business and get up into the high county, an entire posse won't be able to track us through all those canyons."

"And what will we do with the brat then?" Roark wanted to know.

"When I think we're in the clear, I'll deal with him then," was Lloyd's ominous reply. "Now do as I say, Will. Get us some grub and pack up!"

While the rest were busy eating, Will took Mark aside. "Just stick close to me kid and do as exactly as you're told." Grabbing his gear, he headed over to where the horses were tethered. Mark followed. Taking the saddle blanket, he threw it over the back of his horse.

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Lloyd really your uncle?"

Retrieving his saddle, he quipped back. "Yeah. What of it?"

Mark shrugged then bit his lip as if in thought. "I don't know. Just seems odd you'd be mix up with a gang of outlaws," he said quietly.

Will had swung the saddle onto his horse and reached under to grab the cinch strap keeping his eyes averted from Mark. "You know nothing about me kid. I'm no better than they are," he replied harshly, tightening the cinch.

"I don't think that's true. If you were really like them, you'd have never stopped to help me."

Still seething with anger Will suddenly swung around and grabbed Mark by the shoulders. Mark's eyes widened in surprise. Lloyd was right. Being soft had got him nothing but trouble his entire life! "I ain't lookin' for praises, understand?" He shook Mark roughly. "I'm in a mess of trouble because of you already! I should have left you back at the river like Lloyd said. Just keep your mouth shut and do as you're told and we'll get along just fine, understand?"

Mark nodded dumbfounded. There was such a look of hurt on his face he felt as if he'd been physically slapped. Seeing his expression, Will abruptly released him and stormed angrily off.

Left alone Mark stood still for several moments not sure what do, feeling more lost and confused than ever. When Will hadn't returned, he slowly wandered over to the other side of the campsite and sat dejectedly down underneath a tree. Drawing up his knees, he rested his elbows on them and leaned his head against the tree trunk. He closed his eyes briefly, his thoughts on his father. What do I do now, Pa? Mark thought in despair.

Distractedly, he picked up a few stones lying on the ground between his legs and began tossing them in the dirt as he contemplated his plight. The further they got from the river, Mark feared, the harder it would be for his father to find him, if ever. For all Mark knew, maybe they were right. Perhaps Lucas thought he'd already drowned. But Mark also knew his pa wouldn't give up the search easily. If only there was some way to let his father know he was alive and perhaps warn him of the danger he was in.

He looked down at the stones. Slowly, a plan was forming in his mind. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could think of for now.

Glancing over at the men he could see they were still eating and engrossed in conversation. "That brat's going to be nothing but trouble, I'm telling you Lloyd.!" Mark heard Roark snap. Lloyd leaned over and said something to him which Mark didn't catch. Whatever it was it apparently didn't set well with the outlaw who threw the remains of his coffee in the fire. Roark then pick up the bottle of whiskey and took a swig throwing Mark a menacing sideways glance.

Mark sat very still, keeping his eyes to the ground. Lloyd glanced briefly over at Mark before turning back to his meal.

Keeping one eye on the men, Mark reached over and picked up a few stones and a twig nearby. Cautiously, he arranged the stones and started etching something in the dirt.

He was almost finished when Lloyd suddenly stood up. Mark dropped the twig and sat still clasping his hands together between his bent knees to conceal his activities.

The outlaw barked over his shoulder at Will, then approached Mark. Towering above, Lloyd stared intently down causing Mark to wet his lips nervously. Holding his breath, he raised his head trying not to give himself away.

"Get up!" Lloyd demanded.

With sinking apprehension, Mark stumbled to a standing position, sure he'd been caught.

"I'm only gonna tell you this once. Give me any trouble and I'll make sure your pa will never find you, understand?"

Mark nodded. Grabbing him by the forearm, Lloyd led him over to the horses and shoved him towards his nephew. He was to ride double with Will.

"Mount up!" Lloyd ordered the men.

Mark let out a deep breath, not daring to look back or make further eye contact with the outlaws. Will mounted his horse, then helped Mark up behind.

"Let's go!" Lloyd barked.

"Hang on tight Mark!" Will said, as they set off.