The Last Trail Drive by J. Roberts

fire.
    â€œI’ve asked Ryan to come and eat with us.”
    â€œWith you,” Flood said. “I’ll take my plate over there, let you talk to him alone.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œI hope you’ll be able to trust him, Clint,” Flood said.
    â€œYes,” Clint said. “So do I.”

TWENTY-SIX
    Chip Ryan got his chow from Spud Johnson, then walked over to where Clint was sitting with his plate and coffee.
    â€œPull up a crate,” Clint said.
    Ryan sat down, his movements very tentative.
    â€œRelax,” Clint said. “I told you you’re not getting fired. Eat your supper.”
    Spud had created a combination of bacon, beans, and potatoes that lived up to his name. There were also some fresh biscuits that just about melted in your mouth.
    â€œFlood tells me you’re trustworthy, Ryan,” Clint said. “What do you say?”
    â€œI do my job,” Ryan said.
    â€œHe seems to think you have other talents, though,” Clint said. “You don’t spend all your time working cattle.”
    â€œI’ve done other things,” Ryan admitted, still not comfortable with the situation.
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œA little bit of everything,” Ryan said.
    â€œOkay, let me get to the point, Chip,” Clint said. “Can you handle a gun?”
    â€œWell . . . yeah. I’ve worn a badge a time or two, was a bounty hunter for a year or two. I can hit what I shoot at.”
    â€œHow good are you on a horse?”
    â€œReal good.”
    â€œCan you ride somebody’s back trail without them seeing you?”
    â€œWell, sure, but—”
    â€œI think we’re being followed,” Clint said, “or watched. I want somebody to lay back and find out for sure. Is that something you think you could do?”
    â€œThat’s what this is about?” Ryan asked.
    â€œThat’s it.”
    He stood up.
    â€œI’m gonna get some more of this chow. I’ll be right back.”
    Clint watched as Spud spooned more food into Ryan’s plate, and then the man came back, sat down, and started eating with gusto.
    â€œYou just about ruined my supper, Mr. Adams,” Ryan said. “I didn’t know what you were gonna say to me. Now that I know, I can enjoy my food.”
    â€œWell, I wasn’t looking to ruin your appetite, Chip,” Clint said. “I told you your job was safe.”
    â€œYeah, well . . .”
    â€œCan we talk about it now?”
    â€œSure, Mr. Adams,” Ryan said. “I ain’t especially fond of herdin’ cattle. I was just doin’ this for the money, and because it’d gimme time to decide what I wanted to do after.”
    â€œWell, what I want you to do is simple,” Clint said. “You have to do it without being seen. If you don’t think you can—”
    â€œIf I don’t wanna be seen,” Ryan said, cutting him off, “I don’t get seen.”
    â€œOkay,” Clint said. “I suggest you circle around for miles, then come back. That way if there’s somebody, there you’ll come up behind them. Even if they do see you, they won’t connect you with the herd if you’re coming at them from behind.”
    â€œSounds good,” he said. “When do you want me to go?”
    â€œWell, that’s the other thing,” Clint said to the younger man. “Can you ride at night without breaking your neck?”
    Ryan smiled.
    â€œNo problem.”
    Â 
    After Ryan went back to the other men—with instructions not to tell them what he was doing—Flood came back over to Clint.
    â€œWhat’s the story?”
    â€œHe’ll go out tonight, circle around, and see if we’re being watched.”
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œThen he’ll come back and tell us,” Clint said. “Is there anything distinctive about this fellow Morgan? I mean, if Ryan comes back and describes him will you