Kill McAllister by Matt Chisholm

them.”
    Trig wasn’t so easily convinced.
    â€œI’ll believe it when I see ’em,” he said.
    They went on, following the trail of the cattle easily.
    â€œWhere’d you reckon they’re headed?” Trig asked as they rode.
    â€œMaxton maybe,” Grotten suggested. “I heard there’s a dealer there. They reckon the yards won’t be working fully till next year, but there’s pens there and maybe these boys could sell their herd there. The Struthers’ boys’ll be feeling a mite desperate. Any port in a storm. They’re late and they’ll want to get shot of the cows before the weather breaks.”
    An hour later, they spotted the distant herd, moving slowly north at a walk.
    â€œDo we go in close and check?” Trig asked.
    â€œNo,” Grotten told him. “Too risky. We know there’s a herd on the road. It don’t matter who the cows belong to, they’re all cows.”
    Trig grinned.
    â€œNow,” he said, “all we have to do is find our way back to the captain.”
    They turned and started back, working their way back by the landmarks that they remembered. But they were precious few on the open plains and they had their work cut out. Grotten used his compass, but by noon he reckoned they were too far south and west, but that was no more than a guess and the two men started to be worried and flustered. The meeting with Forster was going to be unpleasant at best. During the afternoon, they were making their way east when they spotted a horseman on a ridge waving his hat to them. They turned their mounts toward him and soon reached him. It proved to be Sholto out looking for them.
    â€œGodamighty,” Sholto told them, “the captain’s fit to be tied. You fellers get yourselves lost?”
    Grotten snarled: “Who could help getting himself lost on this God-forsaken plain?”
    â€œYou find the herd?”
    â€œWe found it.”
    Sholto led them a couple of miles east and soon they were surrounded by their comrades and facing a furious Forster. The tirade that followed drove Trig to reply, but Grotten took it without a word. When Forster had done cursing them, his lieutenant said: “Well, we found the herd, captain; I reckon we best get after it.”
    Forster cooled a little and gave the order to saddle and mount. They all got on the move and were soon riding north-west. By now most of the men and horses were pretty well rested and they hit a good pace, but night caught them before they could sight the herd and once more they were forced to camp without coming up with their goal. Forster was white to the mouth with rage and the men left him alone. As they did not know how near the Struthers’ outfit was, the captain did not allow a fire to be lit and this fed the men’s ill-temper. It was not a happy camp as the men once more rolled up their blankets. Forster wanted to send out a man to locate the herd afresh, but the men argued fiercely that it would only result in further delays as nobody could find his way on the plain in the dark. Forster had to be satisfied with this.
    But he had them up before dawn and on the move. Grotten went forward alone this time to sight the herd. In a couple of hours he came back on the run to tell them that he had sighted the drive going slowly north along a shallow valley. An ideal place for an ambush. If Forster hurried, the Struthers’ outfit would be sitting ducks.
    Forster’s ill-humor lifted at once. Quickly he was all smiles.
    â€œThis is it, boys,” he cried. “We’ve got ’em this time.” Grotten gave the men their direction and then Forster rode forward with him to see the drive for himself and to see how best he could place his men. This was going to be planned with military precision. There were going to be no slip-ups. It wasn’t long before he sat his horse watching the herd going slowly away from him north. The slowly