Sidewinders by William W. Johnstone

toward the old Morton place. Something about him struck Scratch as familiar, but he didn’t recognize the man right off.
    The two of them climbed to their feet. Somebody moving that fast usually meant trouble, and Scratch was glad he hadn’t taken off his gun belt and hung up the Remingtons. He watched tensely as the rider veered away from the house and came toward him and Eben. The man must have spotted them in the field.
    Scratch relaxed a little as he realized why the rider looked familiar. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the man was Hank Creel, Bo’s youngest brother. When he came closer, Scratch was sure of it. He lifted a hand in greeting.
    â€œThat’s Bo’s brother Hank,” he told Eben.
    â€œYeah, I recognize him now, too. But he looks mighty upset about something.”
    Scratch agreed with that. And considering all the crazy things that had taken place since he and Bo returned to Bear Creek, he wasn’t even too surprised that something else must have happened.
    He just hoped it wasn’t too bad.
    â€œHowdy, Hank,” he called as the younger man hauled back on the reins and brought the horse to a skidding stop. Hank was red-faced and out of breath. He had never been a good rider, and Scratch thought that the way he’d been bouncing up and down in the saddle should have been a dead giveaway as to his identity.
    Hank dismounted awkwardly and stumbled toward them. He said, “Scratch, Bo needs your help. The marshal arrested him a little while ago.”
    â€œWhat!”
    Hank nodded and swallowed hard.
    â€œMarshal Haltom brought a posse out from Bear Creek,” he said. “Bo wouldn’t put up a fight against the law, and he wouldn’t let me, either.”
    â€œNo, he wouldn’t,” Scratch said. “Bo’s always been the law-abidin’ sort, except when there wasn’t any other way to make sure the right thing got done. He didn’t do anythin’?”
    Hank shook his head and said, “No, he just handed over his gun and went with them peacefully.”
    Scratch knew how difficult it must have been for his old friend to do that.
    â€œI thought your pa was goin’ to town to talk to the marshal,” he said to Hank.
    â€œYeah, he did. He left the ranch not long after you did. But he and the posse must have missed each other somehow. Marshal Haltom had to have been on his way to the Star C by the time Pa left for Bear Creek.”
    There were three or four different trails a man could use to get to the settlement from the Creel ranch, Scratch thought, so the idea wasn’t too far-fetched. But it was bad luck for Bo, even though John Creel might not have been able to talk the lawman out of making an arrest if he’d been there.
    â€œWho swore out the charges against Bo?” Scratch asked as his eyes narrowed in anger.
    â€œDanny Fontaine.”
    Eben made a disgusted noise and said, “Those damn carpetbagging Fontaines are nothing but trouble.”
    Scratch turned to his brother-in-law.
    â€œI’ve got to head for town and see if I can talk some sense into the marshal,” he said.
    â€œIt won’t be easy,” Eben warned. He put a hand on the mule’s shoulder. “Jonas Haltom is honest, as far as I know, but he’s also stubborn as the day is long. If he’s convinced he’s done the right thing by arresting Bo, you won’t be able to talk him out of it.”
    â€œWe’ll see about that.” Scratch was still thinking about Judge Parker and Deputy Marshal Brubaker. They were the key to this . . . but only if he had time to get in touch with them and get a reply back.
    With the way everybody in the settlement was so up in arms against Bo, Scratch worried about his old friend being locked up in jail. The situation was ripe for a lynch mob to form. That was another good reason to get to town as fast as he could.
    â€œTell Dorothy I’m sorry I couldn’t