As soon as the men have ridden out of sight Slim heads straight for the barn, leading Alamo out of his stall and grabbing his saddle off the wall. He tries to think what to do next as he starts tacking the horse up, mind spinning fruitlessly. On the one hand all he wants is to head out and try and find Jess before that mob does, get his friend's side of the story in the hopes that all of this is some terrible mistake. On the other he sure could use the law at his back if this goes sour, but riding into Laramie for Mort will put him at least an hour or two behind that damn posse, time Jess might not have to spare. He wishs Andy and Jonsey were here, so he could send one of them into town while he rode out to look for Jess. He's still trying to make a decision as he loads his rifle into it's scabbard when he hears the faint sound of a stage coming round the bend. With everything that's happened he'd completely forgotten that it was almost time for the 3'o'clock to arrive. Mose careens around the corner with his usual abandon, reining the stage up in the yard.
"Howdy Slim!" He calls cheerfully, waving a hand.
"I'm real sorry Mose, I can't help you change the horses. I've gotta ride out right away." Slim replies guiltily, but his concern for Jess spurs him forward. Mose frowns, seeming to sense the gravity of the situation.
"Well that's alright, we don't have any passengers, just cargo, so we're not in a hurry. What's lit a fire under your tail?" Slim eyes the man, wondering how much he should divulge. In the end he settles on the truth. Mose has a good head on his shoulders, and he likes Slim and Jess both. Besides, Slim realizes, he might actually be able to solve his problem.
"Posse came through here just now, looking for Jess. They're after him for something I don't think he did Mose, and I'm afraid of what they're gonna do if they find him." Slim admits. "I want to go ride out and see if I can find Jess before they do, but when you get to town could you let Mort Corey know what's happened, it'd be a big help. Tell him I might be needing some back up."
"Of course Slim, anything I can do for you two boys. This team isn't dried out yet, don't gotta bother with changing 'em out I'll head straight into town." Slim's about to thank the old stage driver when the man riding shotgun, a new fellow named Josiah, jumps up. Slim remembers him and Jess were sort of friends like, Jess teaching the younger man card tricks on his break when the stage stopped over at the ranch.
"If you lend me a horse I can make it to town in an hour!" He says eagerly, before pausing and looking over at Mort, "That is if you're alright without me riding shotgun the last stretch that is."
Mort waves a hand. "Go on boy, this stretch is purty safe. Besides, I may be old but I ain't too bad a shot yet." He says, patting the pistol at his hip with a wink. Slim doesn't wait any longer, turning back to the barn to saddle up another horse for Josiah. Nervous energy thrums through him, telling him every moment he wastes here is a moment Wilson and his mob get closer to Jess. He passes Traveler's stall as he brings the horse out, and the big bay whuffs as if he too can sense something is wrong. Or maybe he can, horses always seem to have a sixth sense about these sorts of things. Slim pauses for just a moment to run a hand down the bay's face.
"He'll be alright, huh. He always is, isn't he?" Traveler just whuffs again, dark eyes staring placidly back at Slim. There's no reassurance to be found there. Sighing Slim tugs at the bridle of the plucky yearling he's chosen, heading for the barn door and the boy waiting outside.
Soon as Slim passes the reins over Josiah mounts up and takes off down the road, riding like the devil's on his tail. Slim pulls himself up into Alamo's saddle, meaning to follow suit, but Mose calls out to him as he starts to kick the horse into a trot.
"You make sure that posse don't do anything wild, huh?"
"I'm sure going to try." Slim calls back, before Alamo gets his legs under him and they're off into the hills.
He doesn't follow the trail into Laramie, taking Alamo up and into the hills. He figures if the posse didn't see Jess on the road between here and Cheyenne he shouldn't bother looking. If Jess really does have cattle with him he would've avoided the main road anyways, and not for any of the nefarious reasons Wilson seems convinced of. Cattle moving in a herd kick up a lot of dust, and need a lot of water. There's plenty of cow trails between here and Cheyenne, Jess probably took one of them to avoid putting other riders out and to make sure he could water the herd, especially in heat like this. The question is which one to start looking along. In the end Slim settles on an old trail that runs in the river valley between Twin Peak and Turtle Rock. It's out of the way, and with the creek running through it to follow should keep him and the steers cool, with plenty to drink. He figures it's as good as any, and Jess'd be like to pick it.
Mind made up Slim turns Alamo's head southeast. He knows this land well, and he hopes that's enough to let him make up the time he's lost to Wilson and his gang.
Jess has been looking for a good spot to cross the river for a while now, and finally finds it in the early afternoon. It widens out here at a bend, the water shallower and the current giving way enough that the cows should have no trouble fording it. Unlooping his lariat he snaps the end of it at the cattle's rears, moving them forward and into the creek. They give in readily, the slow-moving current pulling idly at their legs as they trot across and scramble up the low bank on the opposite shore. Only the little calf remains behind, lowing piteously from where she's sunk down onto her forelegs in the middle of the river. Jess sighs but slips from his mounts back, resigning himself to getting a bit wet. Wading back into the water he puts one hand around her chest and the other under her rump, heaving her up into his arms like a sack of potatoes.
"The things I do…" He grumbles good-naturedly, wincing at the feeling of water filling his boots. "Lucky you're a sweet looking thing or I might be tempted to leave you behind." Still, once he sets the calf back down he can't help but chucking her on her little head with a soft grin before he slaps her rump lightly and sends her on to her mother.
He's about to mount up again when the distant sound of pounding hoofbeats echoes down the valley, he squints and makes out six horseman moving fast down the opposite side of the bank. They slow when they catch sight of him, turning their horses into the creek and thundering towards him. Dropping the colt's reins Jess steps forward with a frown, pushing his hat back a little on his head. It looks mighty like a posse to him, coming from the direction of Laramie, and he wonders if something's happened in town. Or out at the ranch for that matter, trouble has it's way of finding the relay station, and with Slim all alone…
They splash up the bank and he walks forward to meet them, a twinge of worry in his belly. Before he can open his mouth to ask what's the matter though they rein their horses up, forming an unsettling circle around Jess that has him suddenly tense. Their eyes are hard and unfriendly, and he wonders if he misjudged their purpose. The feeling only grows when at least two of them pull guns on him before he even has a chance to go for his. One of them, a middle-aged man with dark hair and a mustache, kicks his horse forward a step, eyes sweeping over Jess. He seems familiar somehow how, and with a start Jess realizes he'd played poker with him last night, took some decent money off of him too.
"Hello again, Mr. Harper" He says, a predatory tone in his voice. Jess shifts, not liking the feeling of armed men at his back.
"What's this all about?" The man smiles sort of meanly.
"Drop your gunbelt." He replies, pointedly without answering Jess's question. Jess doesn't move, glaring back at the fellow on the horse until there's the sound of a gun cocking. Another man, this one with unkept brown hair and an equally unkempt brown shirt, levels his gun at Jess's head.
"Wilson said to drop your gunbelt, best you listen to him." It irks Jess to obey, but considering he's outnumbered six to one, he doesn't have much choice. Moving slowly he undoes the string tie on his thigh before unbuckling his belt and tossing it to the side. One of the men had peeled off as they'd approached and he returns now.
"Those cattle have Johanson's brand." He reports to Wilson, who seems to be the leader here, in a low tone. Wilson nods shortly, his eyes not leaving Jess.
"So, where'd you get your hands on that cattle, Harper?" Somehow he manages to make Jess's name sound like a curse.
"Where do you think? From Johanson, where else would I get 'em. I've got the bill of sale right here." Jess reaches for it, only for the shaggy one to call out warningly.
"Don't you try anything!" Jess levels a glare at him.
"Just thought you might like to look at it is all." He growls, temper rising. He'd made a deal with the rancher fair and square, paid for the cattle respectable like. He doesn't know what these men are on about, and he's got a sharp enough eye to notice none of them are wearing a tin star. Fishing the paper out he steps forward and hands it to Wilson, careful to keep his movements slow, he don't much feel like getting any new holes in him today and these fellas seem mighty jumpy. Wilson gives it barely a cursory glance before shaking his head.
"You think we're stupid? Johanson was a literate man, could read and write and everythin', now why the hell would he sign this with his mark instead of just signing his name?"
"Well how should I know? I don't question the way a man chooses to make good his legal documents." Jess near shouts, sick and tired of being held at gunpoint for no discernible reason he can make out. "Now is there a reason you're holding me up here? I'd like to be on my way."
Wilson grins, tossing the bill of sale into the dust and leaning forward in his saddle. "Oh, a couple good reasons in fact." Before he can parse what that might mean the man's next words send a thrill of terror down his spine. "Hang him, boys."