“Jarren abandoned his place near Ludlow Town after that incident with Ollie Yarborough,” he declared.

  Ellard smiled, as did Buchanan, suggesting they reckoned this was all the explanation they needed to provide. Wenlock shrugged, so Dalton asked the obvious question.

  “What incident?”

  “Ollie raided the bank in Independence Town and fled. With a posse closing in on him, he holed up at Jarren’s house. For two days and nights he kept the family hostage until he became exhausted. Then the law moved in and shot him up. That soured Jarren’s view of Ludlow Town and he moved on.”

  “That doesn’t sound like it was the town’s fault.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t, but they had two children of their own, a son and a daughter. . . .” Ellard trailed off when Buchanan groaned and then nodded.

  “I’d forgotten about that,” Buchanan said. “Both kids died during the incident.”

  Dalton and Wenlock waited, but that was the extent of the story. Dalton didn’t reckon that this information helped them, but he still bought Ellard a drink. Ellard smiled and leaned toward him.

  “There’s one other thing,” he said with a low voice. “It’s said that you two committed a whole heap of crimes in Independence Town. That doesn’t matter none to us and if anyone comes looking for you, we won’t tell them you were here, but others might take exception to you.”

  With their worst fears confirmed, Dalton and Wenlock wasted no time before heading to the door. On the way they ignored the customers that Wenlock reckoned were interested in them and they didn’t speak about what they’d learned until they were riding out of town.

  Buchanan’s and Ellard’s stories about Jarren’s relationship with his adopted sons meant they weren’t optimistic that Jarren would be able to provide any suggestions about their whereabouts. On the other hand, he was still their best option, so they agreed that the next day they would return to Independence Town.

  Then Dalton noticed a more pressing problem. Four riders were trotting out of town behind them. It wasn’t clear whether they were following them, but Dalton reckoned there was nothing to be gained by behaving cautiously and they sped off into the night.

  They headed back toward their camp, riding beside the creek, and after a mile Dalton checked behind them. The men were now galloping along following the same route as they were. With that confirmation of their intentions, Dalton moved in closer to Wenlock.

  “Keep going until we reach our camp,” he called. “Then we head into the trees.”

  “Won’t they expect us to go there?” Wenlock said.

  “I reckon the first time they saw us was when we went into the saloon, so they won’t know about our camp, and we now know the area well.”

  Wenlock nodded and, with that agreement, they rode on for a mile before they swung to the side to head for the trees. Dalton had judged their position well as they rode up to their unlit fire, after which they dismounted and led their horses into the trees. They hunkered down and a minute later the riders arrived, but they hurried past.

  “They had to have seen us come up here,” Wenlock said with surprise.

  “The moonlight isn’t strong so the shadows play tricks on the eye. If we’re lucky they won’t figure out exactly where we went.”

  The riders moved on for a few hundred yards and then stopped and milled around. A discussion followed after which they doubled back. One rider went up to the trees before returning. Then they all carried on past their camp.

  “It seems we got lucky,” Wenlock said when the riders had moved out of sight. “Should we move on now?”

  “No. I don’t reckon they’ll give up that quickly and moving could draw their attention to us.” Dalton slapped Wenlock’s shoulder. “Trust me.”

  “I’ve got no choice. I have no idea what’s the best thing to do.”

  They then reverted to silence. Twice more the riders went past their camp and later two riders came up to the trees around thirty yards away and mooched around, but then the group headed back to town.

  After that, Dalton and Wenlock spent an uneasy and cold night in which both men woke often, but each time there were no signs of any of the people who were after them. When the first hints of daybreak were lighting the horizon, they set off.

  They headed over the creek and embarked on a circuitous route to Jarren’s house. At first, they checked behind them frequently, but as the morning wore on they became more confident that for now they had evaded trouble.

  In the end, it took them twice as long as their journey in the other direction. They didn’t encounter any further problems, so they were in an optimistic frame of mind when they approached a house that was similar in size and location to Jarren’s abandoned house in Ludlow Town.

  They stopped on a high point at the edge of a wood where they held a quick debate before they moved on. They agreed that as Wenlock had met Jarren before he’d do the talking and that if Jarren didn’t know they were wanted men they wouldn’t volunteer this information.

  Kathleen was working in a field on high ground while Jarren was fishing down by the water’s edge. They waved to Kathleen and then headed down to the creek. Jarren stood up and when they reached him, they dismounted and Wenlock introduced Dalton. They exchanged pleasantries about the spot being a good one to fish before Wenlock turned to their reason for seeking him out.

  “We’re looking for Knox and—”

  “Stop right there,” Jarren snapped. “I know they killed Deputy Thorne and tried to burn down the mayor’s office, so I’ll tell you what I told Marshal Latimer. I don’t care what they’re doing and I don’t know where they are, but if they ever make the mistake of straying on to my land, I’ll give them more trouble than they can handle.”

  With it sounding as if Jarren didn’t know they had been involved in these incidents, Dalton and Wenlock both smiled.

  “We’d already gathered you might say that, but we also reckoned you might still be able to help us find them. What Latimer probably didn’t know is that they broke into the mayor’s office so they could once again be the owners of your old house.”

  Jarren’s mouth fell open in bemusement before, with a sigh, he beckoned for them to join him in sitting on the bank. For a while he faced the creek and when he spoke, his tone was no longer aggressive.

  “I can’t believe they’d be so stupid as to shoot up a lawman just to prove to themselves they were wrong.”

  Jarren hunched forward while shaking his head slowly.

  “What do you mean?” Wenlock asked when it became apparent Jarren wouldn’t explain further.

  Jarren still took another minute before he responded.

  “As everyone knows, the outlaw Ollie Yarborough once held us hostage in that house and he killed our two children.” Jarren coughed when recalling that incident made his voice become gruff and he took a few moments before he continued speaking. “The horror of what happened meant people soon forgot that the money he stole was never found.”

  Wenlock whistled under his breath as he picked up on where this tale was probably leading.

  “Are you saying that they reckon it’s in your old house?”

  “Ollie had been holed up on my land for days before I found him, so they reckon it’s buried somewhere nearby.” Jarren snarled and picked up and broke a small branch in two. He hurled the pieces into the water and then waited until they’d floated away before he turned to them. “They cared more about that than the deaths. That annoyed me so much I ran them off.”

  “And you reckon they’re still interested in finding the money?”

  “As I said, I can’t believe they’d be that stupid, and as I said before that, I don’t care if they are. They were bad as boys and they’re just plain evil now. The sooner Knox and Gillespie get what Theobald got the better.”

  Jarren stood up and stamped his feet in an obvious show of his having said everything he ever would on the subject. Wenlock and Dalton thanked him and headed back to their horses.

  When they rode away, Jarren walked toward Kathleen with his head bowed making Dalton feel guilty for having opened up old wounds with their questions. They didn’t speak until they were riding up to the high point beside the wood where they’d discussed their approach before meeting Jarren.

  “Do you reckon this old stash of stolen money is what they wanted all along?” Wenlock asked.

  “So far it’s the best explanation we’ve heard, so I guess it’s possible, and it’d suggest they won’t have strayed far from the house.”

  “I thought it might suggest the opposite. They’ll lie low somewhere until everything has quieted down. Then they’ll return and start searching.”

  Dalton was about to argue, but three riders were coming into view farther downriver. As they had come across few people since leaving Clear Creek, he urged Wenlock to join him in getting out of sight.

  They hurried up to the wood and slipped between the trees. Then they returned to the treeline and turned toward Jarren’s house. When the riders came into view again, they were showing no sign they had noticed them, and Dalton had been right to be cautious as Mayor Quantrill was at the front with Hacket and Proctor behind him.

  “They must have picked up our trail,” Dalton said as the men rode toward Jarren’s house.

  Wenlock shrugged. “Or they might have had the same idea as we had of checking out people who might know where they went. Whatever their reasoning, we should put some distance between us and them in case Jarren tells Quantrill he just spoke to us.”

  Dalton shook his head. “I’d prefer to know how much danger we’re in first.”

  Wenlock grunted, acknowledging that this was a sensible plan, but a man laughed behind them making Dalton tense up. He slipped his hand toward his holster, but then Knox spoke up.

  “You’ll sure be in plenty of danger if you don’t throw your gun to the ground,” he said.

  Dalton raised his hand. With Wenlock, he turned around to find that Gillespie and Knox had stepped out from behind a tree, and both men had already aimed guns at them.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Have you been following us?” Dalton said when he’d complied with Knox’s order and tipped his gun out of its holster.

  “No,” Knox said. “We figured the best way to find someone is to stay in one place and let them find you.”

  Dalton narrowed his eyes. “I assume you’re not talking about us?”

  “I doubt anyone would be interested in meeting you again, but Quantrill is a different matter.” Knox smirked. “We figured he’d check out the other house first and he’d be on the alert for treachery, so we decided to ambush him when he’s not expecting it at a time and place of our choosing.”

  “I don’t care what happens to you when you take on the mayor, but you’re not going after him and his hired guns until you give me what I want.”

  Knox sneered and moved to the side. The mayor and his men had now reached the creek and were riding beside the water toward Jarren, who had stood up to greet them. Gillespie turned away from the scene and then stepped up closer to Dalton.

  “What do you want from us?” he asked.

  “The page you stole from the ledger.”

  Gillespie shrugged. “All we took from the office was the document you saw us find. We don’t know nothing about this other page.”

  “You ripped it out of the ledger I’d taken so you could—”

  “Quit with the accusations. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Despite his protestation of innocence, he turned away from Knox suggesting he was only speaking for himself.

  “Stop wasting time dealing with his nonsense,” Knox said, pointing at the creek. “We need to get ready. If Jarren tells the mayor where Dalton and Wenlock went he’ll come this way, and if he doesn’t we need to follow him.”

  Knox backed away into the trees while keeping a careful eye on Quantrill’s group. With Gillespie behaving in a less confrontational manner than his colleague was and with Knox no longer paying close attention to their captives, Dalton moved toward Knox.

  He took two paces without being challenged and that encouraged Wenlock to advance on Gillespie. Dalton was raising his foot to take another pace when Knox turned to him while Gillespie raised a hand in a warding off gesture.

  “Both of you, stay back,” Gillespie said.

  Dalton ignored the warning and continued to advance on Knox.

  “You won’t shoot us,” he said. “The noise would just alert Quantrill.”

  “Don’t risk it.” Knox raised his gun slightly, but he also took a pace backward. “Stay back.”

  Dalton was now sure that neither man wanted to shoot them, so he continued to advance until he stood up close to Knox.

  “Hand over the page and we’ll leave you to your fate,” he said.

  Knox shook his head and, with a grunt of irritation, he flicked up his gun hand, aiming to club Dalton about the side of the head. With an instinctive movement, Dalton flinched away while taking a backward step and he avoided the intended blow.

  Knox followed him and moved to hit him again. This time, Dalton thrust up his left hand and blocked Knox’s arm. Using his right fist, Dalton followed through with a jab that crunched into Knox’s stomach.

  Knox grunted in pain. Then he hurled himself at Dalton, but the punch must have weakened him as Dalton kept him at bay with only a raised arm and then bundled him away. Knox slammed into a tree and his head crunched into the bark with a thud before he stumbled away.

  With his gait unsteady, he walked into Dalton’s swinging punch that hammered into his chin and sent him reeling. Wenlock was now squaring up to Gillespie, although Gillespie was shaking his head while eyeing Wenlock’s bunched fists with what Dalton took to be wry amusement. Dalton advanced on Knox, who had managed to avoid falling over, but was now standing hunched over while feeling his jaw.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Knox said while straightening up. “But maybe getting Quantrill here by shooting you is a good idea, after all.”

  With that, Knox turned his gun on Dalton. In desperation Dalton kicked out, hoping to send undergrowth flying up into Knox’s face. Fortuitously, his foot looped under a fallen branch and the deadwood rose up and slammed into Knox’s midriff.

  Caught unawares, Knox folded over and stepped forward, and that let Dalton thud a quick blow into his ear that knocked him over sideways. With Knox floundering on the ground, Dalton bent over meaning to claim Knox’s gun, but Gillespie muttered a warning.

  “Lay a hand on that gun and I’ll shoot,” he said.

  Dalton turned his head and winced. Gillespie had grounded Wenlock with what was probably his first punch. He had now aimed his gun at the supine man.

  “There was never a need for any of this,” Dalton said. “If the law finds us, we will keep to the story we agreed.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that and I can see you’re angry about something, but you’ve picked the wrong people to blame.” Gillespie turned toward the creek. “Now stand back and let us finish what we started.”

  Dalton stepped to the side giving Knox enough room to clamber to his feet. Knox bunched a fist as he appeared to think about repaying Dalton for having bettered him, but then he joined his colleague in turning to the creek.

  Quantrill was now with Jarren, but within moments the meeting looked as if it was about to come to an end. Hacket and Proctor got back on their horses. Then the mayor shook Jarren’s hand, adding weight to the possibility he hadn’t cheated him in the past. When Quantrill turned away to head to his horse, Gillespie and Knox tensed up, but once he’d mounted up, he headed upriver toward Independence Town.

  “So we follow them and launch an ambush,” Knox said. He waited until Gillespie nodded and then pointed at Dalton. “Don’t interfere.”

  “We don’t intend to do that,” Dalton said. “We’re only here because you took—”

  “We don’t care about your problems, so don’t keep accusing us of doing something we didn’t do.”

  Gillespie kept a gun on Dalton, so Knox leaned back against a tree and rubbed his chest and chin as he took a few moments to recover from his beating. He declared himself fine and moved away through the trees.

  When he’d disappeared from view, Wenlock gingerly got to his feet while rubbing his cheek. He didn’t meet Dalton’s eye. Presently, Knox returned leading their horses. The brothers mounted up. Then they swapped roles with Knox keeping a gun on them and Gillespie collecting Dalton’s and Wenlock’s horses.

  “Just be thankful you’re not getting what Quantrill will get,” Knox said.

  He waited for a response, but when Dalton and Wenlock stayed silent, he and Gillespie rode away leading a horse apiece. The mayor’s group was no longer visible, so the brothers rode along beside the treeline.

  They kept their distance from Jarren’s house and when they’d passed it, they veered away toward the creek to head in the direction that Quantrill had gone. After a few minutes, they released their horses and sped up.

  “We’ll have to follow them,” Dalton said and then beckoned for Wenlock to join him in moving away from the trees. “I reckon Gillespie was being honest when he denied knowing what I wanted, but not Knox.”

  Dalton waited to hear Wenlock’s opinion, but he didn’t reply. He turned around and found that Wenlock wasn’t paying attention to him as he had sunk to his knees while holding a hand to his lowered brow.

  “Go on without me,” Wenlock said. “I’m finished.”

  “You can’t give up now. Gillespie and Knox are about to ambush the mayor and at the least we need to see how that turns out.”

  “You don’t need me for that.”

  Dalton frowned and headed over to him. He held out his hand and Wenlock sighed before he clasped it and let him draw him to his feet.

  “I’m disappointed I haven’t resolved my problem yet, but what’s changed for you?”

  Wenlock kicked at the ground and shrugged several times suggesting he wouldn’t reply, but then he turned to Dalton.

 

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