Passin' Through (1985) by Louis L'amour

of the nearby range without getting out of sight of the house. Taking my time, I cleaned out a water hole, stacked some fallen-down branches for firewood, and generally kept a watch on the trail.
    A couple of buckboards passed, and a spring wagon coming from the west, evidently headed for Animas City. There was no sign of my visitor of the previous night.
    Had he given up? I doubted that, knowing the breed. He would inquire around and come upon some cowboy or miner who knew Matty was living at the ranch. Then he would come back again. The men Pinkerton hired were tough men, and they were stayers. This one had been a cool customer and wasn't going to be stampeded by anyone or anything.
    We needed a dog and we needed another man. There'd be times when I wouldn't be around. The trouble was I didn't know anybody in this neck of the woods unless somebody drifted in rustling work. If I was ever going to reclaim my outfit I'd have to get back along the trail and pick it up and pay for the keep of my horses.
    Mrs. Hollyrood was in the kitchen when I entered. It was just shy of noon. Matty was nowhere to be seen.
    "Are you hungry? Matty made sandwiches, and there's coffee."
    "It'll do me." I sat down and she brought a couple of thick sandwiches to the table and poured coffee. "You hear all that talk last night?"
    She stopped, coffeepot in hand. "Talk?"
    "After you went to bed, when the lights were out. There was a man out there, said he was a Pink. A Pinkerton."
    "You mean a dectective? Here?"
    The laughter that always seemed to lurk behind her eyes had vanished. The eyes were cool, speculative. "Just what did he want?"
    "He was asking about a young woman, a young, blond woman. He seemed to have the idea she was the owner here."
    The room was quiet. Hungry, I bit into my sandwich. It was good, mighty good. Mrs. Hollyrood looked out the window, up the road to the east, and what she was thinking I had no idea.
    "Did he say why he looked for her?"
    "No. The fact is that I sent him on his way. It was late and I was afraid our talking would wake you up, if you were asleep."
    "He's gone then?"
    "No, ma'am. He'll be back. You understand, I didn't see him in daylight, but that's a tough man. He'll be back until he find what he's lookin' for, whatever that is."
    "A young, blond woman? Did he describe Matty? Did he have a name?"
    "He didn't have time."
    Her face was partly turned from me and I could read nothing in it. If she was scared or worried she did not show it at all.
    "Ma'am? Over there where they tried to hang me I left an outfit. I mean I had two horses and some gear, tools, bedding, an' such. One of these days I'm going to ride over there and pick it up."
    "You'll be gone then?"
    "For a few days. I reckon a week. When I rode over this away I was travelin' mighty fast. I figured there'd be a posse right behind me and I stretched out. That roan, I love that horse, ma'am, that roan did what would have killed most horses. I wasn't makin' any great show of it but I was putting a lot of country behind me. What I covered in two days an' most of a night would take me easy four days riding sensible."
    "We will miss you, and I wish - I wish you'd not leave for a day or two. I mean with this detective ... I don't know what to think about him. I wish you'd stay on."
    "That I can do."
    Pushing back my chair, I made as if to get up, but she asked me to stay, so I relaxed, sort of. But my eyes were on the road outside. To tell the truth I was worried about that detective. He was a hard, sharp man and he was, like I remembered the Pinkertons, a stayer. He was not one to give up, and I was worried for Matty. If it was her he was looking for, which I doubted.
    When a man starts hunting for somebody with few clues he just naturally follows any lead he can find, and if somebody told him about a young blond woman newly arrived at a ranch, he would surely investigate. Chances are when he had looked at her he would realize he was wrong and ride on about his