The Fire of Greed by Bill Yenne Page A

two times,” the Dutchman replied.
    â€œWhat would possess these devils to take the time to
scalp
two Apaches?” Geier asked rhetorically.
    â€œThe same thing that possessed them to shoot their partners in the back,” Cole answered.
    â€œThey probably don’t know they did themselves a favor,” the Dutchman observed after he had inspected the other body.
    â€œHow’s that?” Cole asked.
    â€œOur friends have mutilated them in the Apache way . . . not the white man way. This will confuse the Chiricahua.”
    â€œNot infuriate them?”
    â€œThese savages are Mescalero,” the Dutchman explained. “They are likely two who wanted to prove themselves as great warriors by riding into Chiricahua country to steal horses. The Chiricahua will not be alarmed by finding dead Mescalero. They will be pleased that the trespassers have been killed and humiliated. But the Chiricahua will come if they heard the shots, so we should move quickly.”

Chapter 11

    IN THE AFTERMATH OF THE AMBUSH, THE FOUR TREASURE seekers had continued in silence, united by a concern that more Apache would pounce at any moment. Three of the four rode in the silence of concern, unnerved by Gardner’s impulsiveness in lifting the hair of the two ambushers then casually tying the scalps to his saddle as trophies.
    Even Stanton, who had killed the first Apache, and who had been Gardner’s willing accomplice for all manner of mayhem for years, cast his partner a glance that expressed his opinion that the scalping of two Apaches in the heart of Apache country was unnecessarily provocative.
    By late afternoon, the consternation had faded, superseded by renewed optimism as they broke out of the trees into a small meadow and could clearly see the snowcapped peak, straight ahead.
    â€œTold you so,” Ben Muriday shouted. “Lookie there. We been on the right track all the day. Just like I said we was.”
    â€œI’ll be damned,” Stanton said with a smile.
    They paused to let the horses graze in the meadow, and to study the terrain in the distance for any hint of red sandstone cliffs.
    Stanton noticed Muriday looking askance at the pack animals, and imagined he wanted to complain to Gardner, as he had earlier, about them slowing down their progress. However, even someone like Muriday, not given to politeness, was not going to incur the wrath of the man with two scalps tied to his saddle.
    * * *
    LIKE THOSE WHOM THEY PURSUED, COLE AND GEIER guided their course by the snowcapped peak, although after passing the ambush site, they altered their trajectory toward the top of the ridgeline so as to maintain a position on higher ground. Here, they found a deer trail, and made good time following it, while the others continued in a more dense section of the forest below.
    â€œCan’t believe it,” Cole said with a sigh of relief, handing his brass spyglass to the Dutchman.
    â€œSo,” Geier said, focusing on a group of riders in a clearing below. They had dismounted and were checking cinches while their stock grazed.
    For the first time since he had left the railroad line east of Santa Fe at the beginning of this adventure, Bladen Cole was able to cast his gaze upon the men whom he had been trailing. They seemed to have stayed one step ahead of him for the past five days. Now he had caught up, and it was time to plan his next move.
    â€œYou have caught your prey,” the Dutchman said and smiled.
    â€œNot quite,” Cole said cautiously. “Catching them dismounted
is
how I’d like to do it, but they’re a quarter mile away. They’d both see us and hear us coming down this rocky slope. They could start shooting, or mount up and ride out faster than it would take to get down there . . . or both.”
    â€œI see.” Geier nodded. “You have a bit of a hunter in you.”
    â€œThat’s the job. Now is the time to