The Coyote Tracker by Larry D. Sweazy

had many enemies in Austin. For all Josiah knew, Juan Carlos could have acted as a spy for the sheriff, just like he had done for Captain McNelly and the Texas Rangers.
    â€œYour friend told you correctly,” Farnsworth said.
    â€œI haven’t had much of a chance to speak to Elliot about the charge. The explosion went off just as I reached his cell.”
    â€œNow, that’s a coincidence.”
    â€œWhat else would it be, Rory?” Josiah asked, with a cocked eyebrow.
    The deputies were intent on quieting down the prisoners, yelling back, ordering them all to their bunks. All told there were twelve deputies swarming about, one for each man, trying to restore some kind of order to the Travis County jail.
    Farnsworth didn’t seem to notice or care; he was completely focused on Josiah. The noise level had been quickly reduced to about half of what it was before the deputies arrived. The smell of death and gunpowder persisted.
    â€œI don’t know, Wolfe, your reputation precedes you everywhere you go in this town. You ought to know that by now. I know you better than most folks in Austin, but I don’t hardly know you at all. The newspapers have painted you as a renegade, a lawless Ranger harkening back to the State Police days.”
    â€œI’m well aware of what the newspapers have to say about me. They’re wrong. And you know that.”
    â€œDo I? I saw you strolling down the street with Pearl Fikes yesterday. Do you know nothing of appearances or social graces?”
    â€œObviously not. I suspect that sentiment applies to you as well?” Josiah asked, remembering fully the same day Farnsworth spoke of. Only instead of being socially unaware, Blanche Dumont had publicly spit on the sheriff, for reasons unknown. “I came here with no other knowledge or intention than to see my fellow Ranger and to see for myself whether or not the charges are true.”
    â€œAnd are they?”
    â€œI don’t know the details of the crime, but Elliot says he is innocent. I take him at his word, and that’s good enough for me.”
    â€œIt’s not good enough for me. Or the circuit judge who will be presiding over the trial. There has been a rash of killings on that side of town. Most folks would not normally take notice of the death of a single soiled dove at the hands of an unruly cowboy, but there have been too many within a short period of time. People are starting to ask questions. The boy literally had blood on his hands and just cause as far as I understand it.”
    â€œAnd what cause was that?” Josiah asked.
    â€œHave you ever been rejected by a whore, Wolfe?”
    â€œCan’t say that I have.”
    â€œMe, either. I’m sure that’d be reason enough to drive some men to kill.”
    â€œWe’ll see about that.”
    â€œI’m sure we will.” Farnsworth nodded, then stared harshly at Josiah. “I have a witness, Wolfe. Regardless of your question of motive or the boy’s character, which I know you hold in high esteem, someone saw Scrap Elliot plunge a knife into the girl’s belly and run away like a coward. A rope will end this story, you mark my words.”
    The air escaped Josiah’s lungs. He could hardly breathe at the news, much less say anything in Scrap’s defense.
    â€œWhat did you see when the explosion occurred?” Farnsworth asked, changing the subject.
    Josiah stared at the sheriff and then replied, not anxious to let go of the discussion about Scrap but sure that he had to for the moment. “Wasn’t much to see, everybody was dressed in black, had their faces covered, and seemed well organized, rehearsed, like they knew what to do and when to do it. Only thing that stood out was a gray gelding that gave one of the men trouble for a minute or so.”
    â€œWould you recognize that horse again if you saw it?”
    â€œI think I would.”
    â€œThat’s it? That’s all