Louis L'Amour by The Cherokee Trail

Mary, Mr. Stacy. All my friends do.”
    “I must warn you. Somewhere around here some outlaws have found a hideout. We do not know where it is, but we know who some of them are. I want you and all our agents to be aware of them, and they are no common run of outlaw. One of them is a man known as Denver Cross.”
    “You believe he will try to steal our horses?”
    “I do not. Denver plays for bigger stakes, and I believe he is getting settled to wait for a gold shipment.
    “There’s mining in the mountains now. They’ve found gold along Cherry Creek and at several other points. Soon there will be a shipment going over our line to the East. I believe that is why Denver Cross is here.”
    “We will be careful.”
    Chapter 6
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    S HE AWAKENED TO a rumble of thunder. For a moment, she lay still. The room was dark, but she knew that daylight was not far off. Slipping from her bed and careful not to awaken Peg, she donned her robe and slippers, then went quietly into the cottage living room and looked across at the station.
    There was a light showing from the window and, to her surprise, a saddled horse at the hitching rail outside. Waiting for a distant flash of lightning, she glimpsed the horse, but it was unfamiliar.
    At this hour?
    Hurriedly, she returned to her room and dressed. For a moment, she hesitated. She still did not have a pistol, and she would look foolish crossing the road in the rain carrying a Henry rifle. Yet, suppose—?
    There was a swift dash of rain, then a steady downpour. Taking up a thick Indian blanket, she held it over her head and around her shoulders; then, stepping out on the porch, she closed the door behind her and walked swiftly across the road to the station.
    Shaking the drops from the blanket, she glanced toward the barn. The door was open a few inches. On these chilly nights, that door was always closed and only opened to lead out the teams. It might be opened a little to let a man in or out but not just a crack. Somebody was probably watching from the barn. Wat Tanner slept in the tack room. Turning away, she opened the door to the station and stepped in.
    The man at the long table turned sharply toward the door, his hand going to the opening of his coat; then, seeing a woman, he let the hand fall.
    He was a strong but rough-looking man, his hat pushed back to reveal a swarthy, almost brutal face with high cheekbones and a slight scar at the corner of his mouth that pulled the corner down somewhat. It was a face that once seen, would never be forgotten. And she had seen it before.
    “Mum?” Matty’s tone was even. “This gentleman’s inquiring for a boy, a young lad.”
    The man’s teeth flashed in a smile. “He was working for me, and he ran away. I’ve come to take him back.”
    She folded the blanket and placed it on the end of the bench. “What if he did not want to go back?”
    “I’m afraid I’d have to take him, anyway, ma’am. The boy was apprenticed to me. He’s not finished his time.”
    “You have his papers?”
    “His what?”
    “When there is an apprenticeship, there are forms that have to be filled out.”
    “I guess I just forgot to bring ’em, ma’am.” The man’s smile was tolerant but amused. “Next time I’m by this way, I’ll show ’em to you. Now I want the boy, and I understand he’s here, workin’ for you. Name of Wat Tanner.”
    Mary Breydon walked around behind the table and filled her cup. “I am sure the simplest way to arrange this,” she said, “would be for us to meet in Laporte where we can see the judge. We can place the matter before him.”
    The smile left the man’s face. He was growing irritated. “I am afraid I can’t wait for that. I’ve ridden all the way in the rain—”
    “Where are you from, Mr.—?”
    “Williams,” he said. “I’m from north of here, up nigh the Wyoming border. Now if you’ll let me have the boy—”
    “I am very sorry. You cannot have him. If you wish to meet me in Laporte before