"Sure,
it's gospel I'm telling ye, an', as you're knowing well, it's me could
tell where the boys who ride at midnight drop many a keg. Well, if ye
will have your reason, it was Courthorne who put the black shame on me
an' mine."
Sergeant Stimson nodded, for he had already suspected this.
"Then," he said dryly, "we'll give you a chance of helping us to put
the handcuffs on him. Now, because they wouldn't risk the bridge, and
the ice is not thick yet everywhere, there are just two ways they could
bring the stuff across, and I figure we'd be near the thing if we fixed
on Graham's Pool. Still, Courthorne's no kind of fool, and just
because that crossing seems the likeliest he might try the other one.
You're ready for duty, Trooper Payne?"
The lad stood straight. "I can turn out in ten minutes, sir," he said.
"Then," and Sergeant Stimson raised his voice a trifle, "you will ride
at once to the rise a league outside the settlement, and watch the
Montana trail. Courthorne will probably be coming over from Winston's
soon after you get there, riding the big black, and you'll keep out of
sight and follow him. If he heads for Carson's Crossing, ride for
Graham's at a gallop, where you'll find me with the rest. If he makes
for the bridge, you will overtake him if you can and find out what he's
after. It's quite likely he'll tell you nothing, and you will not
arrest him, but bearing in mind that every minute he spends there will
be a loss to the rustlers you'll keep him as long as you can.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42