The Fire of Greed by Bill Yenne Page B

follow . . . watch . . . wait.”
    â€œUntil tonight, perhaps.”
    â€œYeah,” Cole confirmed. “Probably until after they dismount again to make camp. Probably until they turn in for the night and the only real obstacle is a dozing sentry.”
    â€œAt their most vulnerable.” Geier nodded. “And before they arrive at the red rock canyon.”
    â€œI expect that there will be some shooting, and some spilling of blood, tonight,” Cole told the Dutchman. “I thank you greatly for taking me this far, but I think I should take it from here.”
    â€œAre you dismissing the old Dutchman?” Geier laughed.
    â€œYou promised to help me find these men . . . and you did. It’s my hide on the line to take them into custody. This will be my fight, not yours.”
    â€œI’m offended that you feel my services would not be useful in the next phase of your enterprise, Mr. Cole. Ist not two guns better that one?”
    The Dutchman’s smile said that the extent of the offense he took was not deep, but there was a trace of disappointment in his voice.
    â€œBut . . .”
    â€œThe fact that I came with you at all ist due to my huge resentment at the deeds which you told me were done by these men. I would like to remain with you to assure that they
will
be taken into custody. I have invested my time in this venture of yours, and I do not want it to come to naught.”
    â€œI don’t want to see you taking any chances,” Cole said.
    â€œI am not a man who is given to chance,” Geier said, the smile fading from his face.
    In the distance, the gathering cumulus had now billowed up around the snowcapped peak, obscuring much of it. A long line of steel gray clouds had shouldered their way in from the west. Thunder rumbled across the landscape, and late afternoon lightning crackled within the thunderheads. As with most summer thunderstorms across the Southwest, the threat of rain was an idle threat, but the wind picked up as the two riders made their way down the talus slope to the clearing where their quarry had paused.
    Between the wind blowing through the trees and the rolling thunder, the sounds made by the two riders were masked from those whom they followed. Using his telescope to keep an eye on them, Cole matched their progress, as he and the Dutchman stayed to higher ground.
    Two hours passed, and then a third. The disturbance within the clouds built to its crescendo and began to slacken as the sun dipped toward the western horizon and fell behind the thunderheads. The lightning flashes were fewer, but more vivid in the gathering darkness.
    The four riders kept going, wringing every possible mile out of the day before it was overpowered by the evening. Cole recognized that he would have done, and often had done, the same, when his progress was ruled by urgency.
    * * *
    â€œIT’S STARTING TO GET ON TOWARD NIGHT,” BEN MURIDAY observed, staring into the shadowy forest ahead of them. “We better ought to make camp before we have to do it in the dark.”
    â€œAnd in the rain,” Simon Lynch added.
    â€œWe had rain clouds all around us for the last three hours,” Gabe Stanton reminded him, “and we ain’t had a drop of rain.”
    â€œIt can come up sudden in these parts,” Lynch replied. “Don’t mind settin’ up camp in the rain. Just don’t wanna do it in the dark too.”
    â€œHe’s probably right,” Jasper Gardner said disgustedly. “If we keep on, we could go past those red cliffs and not even see ’em. Over yonder in that open space would be a good spot. That way there ain’t no cover the Apaches can use to sneak up on us in the night.”
    With that, they chose their campsite, dismounted, and began setting up a picket line for the stock. As he had the night before, Lynch set about building a fire pit as soon as he had unsaddled his