Devil's Canyon by Ralph Compton Page B

said in disgust. “We ain’t jackin’ the wagon up with you settin’ on it.”
    Faro was looking at the huge stone over which the broken wheel had tried to cross. The stone had rolled, allowing the wheel to slide off and slam into the solid rock beneath it.
    â€œDurham,” said Faro, “this could have been avoided. There was room for that wheel to pass without even touching the stone that caused the break. Were you asleep?”
    Durham had climbed down from the wagon box, and he faced Faro defiantly.
    â€œHell, I can’t see every rut and rock in the trail,” he snarled.
    Faro’s patience had run out. He brought his right all the way up from his boot tops, and his fist slammed against Durham’s chin. The gambler’s feet left the ground and he hit the rocky ground on his back. He sat up, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.
    â€œWhen you take the reins,” Faro said grimly, “it’s your responsibility as a teamster to see every rut and rock in the trail. Now get up. You have work to do.”
    Tarno and Dallas removed the spare wheel and wagon jack from Durham’s wagon.
    â€œRemarkable insight, loading the spare wheel and the jack behind the freight,” Collins observed.
    â€œIt’s the first and most important thing a teamster learns,” said Faro. “To do otherwise would be like slidin’ your Winchester into the saddle boot empty, and lockin’ all your shells away in a trunk.”
    To Durham fell the dubious honor of jacking up the sagging rear of the wagon. With a huge hub wrench created for that purpose, Faro broke loose the hub of the shattered wheel and removed it. Within an hour, the wagon was again ready for the trail. Durham had already mounted his wagon box when the two riders appeared. Every man had paused, his hand near the butt of his revolver, but they all relaxed when it became obvioustheir visitors were women. Durham dropped the reins and was about to leap from the box when Odessa McCutcheon spoke.
    â€œMr. Durham, you just stay right where you are, so’s we can keep an eye on you. Slide down off that box, and I’ll part your hair with a slug.”
    â€œMa’am,” said Faro, “since you obviously have an interest in Durham, I reckon you’d better tell the rest of us who you are, and what you want.”
    â€œWe’re the McCutcheons, from Amarillo, Texas. Mr. Durham, here, took a thousand dollars from us. He was to buy a team of horses, a buckboard, and take us with him to California.”
    â€œHe compromised our honor,” said Mamie, “and then sneaked off without us.”
    Shanghai, Tarno, and Dallas had been watching Durham’s face, and could control their mirth no longer. Slapping their thighs, they howled with laughter. Faro was distracted for a moment by the outrageous conduct of his companions, and that was almost enough. Hal Durham had drawn his Colt from beneath his coat when, with a suddenness that surprised them all, Odessa McCutcheon drew her Colt and fired. The slug slammed into Durham’s right shoulder, and his weapon clattered to the wagon box.
    â€œDamn you,” Durham shouted, clutching his wounded shoulder.
    â€œGet down,” said Faro, “and take off your coat and shirt. I reckon we’ll have to patch you up, since these ladies seem to have plans for you.”
    â€œWhile that’s being done,” Collins said, “I believe we should establish the ownership of this wagon andthese mules. After all, there’s a fifth of my goods in the wagon. Ladies, I am Levi Collins. These teamsters are Faro Duval, Shanghai Taylor, Tarno Spangler, and Dallas Weaver.”
    â€œI’m Odessa McCutcheon, and this is my sister, Mamie. We’ve told you all that we…all that’s decent…to tell. Has this skunk took any money from you for the wagon and the mules?”
    â€œNo,” said Collins. “He offered us