Valley Thieves by Max Brand

strong backing, and the only backing that would seem strong enough would be that of Barry Christian, who had carried on his struggle with Silver during so many years.
    "But what makes you think that Christian is in this part of the world?" asked Clonmel.
    "What else brought Jim Silver here?" asked Taxi sadly. "What else keeps him traveling across the world, jumping here and jumping there, never easy? What else brings me trailing along behind him, trying to help, only in touch with him once in a long while, because he doesn't want me in on the danger that always lies ahead? No, Silver is up here somewhere, because he thinks that Christian is around. And the Cary outfit is one that used to play into Christian's hand a long time ago. They're probably playing into the same hand now. People that have had his easy money don't forget the taste of it very soon. He'll pay them thousands for Parade. Why shouldn't he?"
    It was clear enough as an argument, after all, and I knew the legend that Silver had sworn never to rest until, at last, he ran Barry Christian to the ground. I listened to the lonely wind in the trees and felt cold in spite of the warmth of the day.
    "Well," I said, "I'm willing to do what I can. But I don't know what we can manage—the three of us against the lot of them."
    "One of us has to go and take the word to Silver."
    Clonmel said. "The other two ought to watch here, because Will Cary and his father are sure to return. When they're back, if we can lay hands on one of them, we may make him show us the way to Parade—and Christian, if Christian is there."
    "The Carys won't come back—not for a long time," said Taxi. "They know that they're spotted. They're more apt to return to the hang-out of their whole clan."
    "Where's that?" asked Clonmel.
    "Back through the hills," said Taxi. "I don't know where. The old father of Dean Cary is still alive, and he's kept a tribe of sons and grandsons around him. Enough to turn back even Jim Silver. No, after Dean gets the horse to Christian, he'll go back to his tribe."
    "I know where they live," said I, the picture of the valley growing up suddenly in my mind. "It's just under timber line. I could show the way, but—"
    I hesitated, thinking of the number and the fierceness of those Cary men. I knew a lot about them.
    Taxi asked for a description of the trail, and I drew a map of the route on the ground and pointed out the first landmarks, because we could see the mountains through the trees. It was arranged—Taxi did the arranging—that he and Clonmel should take the mountain trail until they had arrived close to the Cary clan. In the meantime, I was to fetch a course overland to the pass beside Mount Craven and try to locate Jim Silver. Clonmel told me where he had managed to find the great man. The reason I was sent toward Silver and not toward the Cary outfit was plainly that I was not much of a fighting man, and the Cary tribe might use their claws on strays that happened into their vicinity. Anyway, I got my horse and pounded away for the pass.
    It was fixed that if I got hold of Silver, the two of us were to show up near the Cary place and fetch a course down the creek that flowed near it. Somewhere on the way we would come in hail of Taxi and Clonmel.
    That was the background behind me when I climbed my mustang through the pass again, bound for Jim Silver. The day had been bright and hot in the valley, but up there in the country of the winds the sky was patched with racing clouds that kept drawing rapid pencil lines of shadow across the map.
    I found the creek that worked among the trees in a shallow little ravine. I took the south side of that ravine, just as I had been instructed, and rode on among the pines, with the mustang slipping a good bit over the layered pine needles, until I came bang on the place which had been described to me by Clonmel as the site of the camp of Silver. It was the exact picture, with a big pine between two smaller ones, near the