The Pinkerton Job by J. R. Roberts

to my face anyway,” Siringo said.

SEVENTEEN
    Clint, Siringo, and Horn managed to ride out of town without any trouble. They reached the point where the Sandusky gang’s tracks mixed in with others, then they circled around to the other edge of town until Horn picked up the trail again. Clint and Siringo followed behind, letting the man do what he did best.
    â€œThere it is,” Tom Horn said, pointing at the ground. “They seem to be heading to Lincoln.”
    *   *   *
    About an hour later Horn reined in, Clint and Siringo doing the same behind him.
    â€œThey’re still heading south,” the tracker said.
    â€œMexico,” Clint suggested.
    â€œEventually,” Siringo said, “but Lincoln first.”
    Clint gave Siringo a surprised look.
    â€œYou think they’re going to hit a ranch in Lincoln?” he asked. “Having some cattle with them will slow them down.”
    â€œIt’s what they do,” Siringo said. “If they think I’m dead and nobody’s on their trail, why not stop and make a few extra dollars?”
    â€œSounds right to me,” Horn said.
    â€œLet’s stay on their trail,” Siringo said. “They could be heading to one of the bigger ranches.”
    â€œOkay,” Clint agreed, “this is your show, Charlie. Let’s move.”
    *   *   *
    Sandusky looked down at the ranch that spread out beneath them. Anderson sat his horse next to him. The rest of the men were behind.
    â€œThere you go,” Sandusky said, pointing. “Plenty to pick from.”
    â€œAre you really sure about this, Harlan?” Anderson asked.
    â€œStop worryin’, Cal,” Sandusky said. “When have I ever been wrong?”
    Anderson didn’t answer, but if Charlie Siringo was still alive, then Sandusky was wrong now! That meant he could be wrong again.
    â€œWhen we gonna hit ’em?” Anderson asked.
    â€œIt’s gettin’ dark,” Sandusky said, looking at the sky. “Let’s hit ’em at first light, before they have a chance to wake up.”
    â€œI’ll tell the others.”
    Anderson rode back to the other men while Sandusky remained where he was. He was thinking about Charlie Siringo. If the detective was not already dead, he was hoping he
would
catch up to them so Sandusky could kill him, once and for all.
    â€œGettin’ dark,” Siringo said.
    â€œThey can’t be that far ahead,” Horn said. “If we keep goin’—”
    â€œI don’t want to ride in the dark,” Siringo said, shaking his head.
    â€œBecause of me?” Horn demanded. “You think I’m gonna fall off my horse?”
    â€œBecause of the horses,” Siringo said. “I don’t want one of them steppin’ into a chuck hole. The last thing we need is a horse with a broken leg, Tom.”
    â€œI agree,” Clint said. “If we’re that close, we can catch them in the morning.”
    â€œFine,” Horn said, looking at Siringo. “It’s your call.”
    They made camp, started a fire, had a dinner of bacon and beans they had purchased in Carrizozo.
    They sat around the fire, Horn leaning to one side to favor his injured leg.
    â€œYou think we got anybody followin’ us?” Siringo asked.
    â€œLike who?” Horn asked.
    â€œLike the Monroe brothers?” Clint asked.
    â€œYou think those three idiots are gonna come after us?”
    â€œThey’re out for revenge for their dead brother,” Siringo said. “They’re not gonna give up that easy.”
    â€œI don’t think they want to go back home and tell their mother what happened,” Clint offered.
    â€œWell,” Horn said, “as far as I can tell, there ain’t nobody behind us.”
    â€œI’ll take the first watch,” Clint said. “Just to make sure.”
    â€œI’ll go next,” Siringo said.