Under the Sweetwater Rim (1971) by Louis L'amour

on the low bank.
    Mary, Belle, and SchwarMore were there, but there was no sign of West or Dorsey.
    "Schwartz, where's West?" Brian asked.
    "He should have been right behind you."
    "He was behind me, sir, but he and Dorsey had kind of fallen back." Brian hesitated. They were probably just lagging behind, but West had been obviously discontented. Brian had recognized that for what it was, for West had never wanted to leave the wagon train and had done so only under a direct order. He felt that West was a trustworthy man, maybe not too bright, but stubborn in his devotion to his responsibilities.
    Dorsey was another kind of man altogether. He was intelligent, up to a point, but was given to overrating himself and his abilities, and looking upon other men with contempt. Brian was sure that Dorsey had been in the army before, had deserted, and re-enlisted. That was not unusual, and there was no way of checking on such men. Desertion was one thing, but sixty thousand dollars was another. "Ironhide, skirt those pothole lakes and ride on toward the pass.
    Camp this side of it. I'll find West and Dorsey and catch up. If anything happens to me, you know what to do."
    "Yes, sir." Ironhide swung his horse and led off. Mary held back. "I'm frightened, Ten.
    What if something should happen to you?"
    "Trust Ironhide and Schwartz. They are both good men. After the pothole lakes you'll come up to Stough Creek. The Middle Fork of the Popo Agie is right beyond it. You'll follow the Middle Fork into the pass. On the other side you'll find the head of the Sweetwater."
    "Must you go?"
    "There's the payroll. I assumed charge and I am responsible. Those two can't have gone far."
    Wheeling his horse, he plunged into the stream again.
    After crossing, he rode swiftly, watching for sign that would show him where they had turned off.
    He found it . . . a feeble attempt had been made to cover their trail, but neither man was good at such things. Two riders and a pack horse, heading south for the Little Popo Agie basin. They were traveling fast, too fast for the condition of their horses, none of which had the stamina of his own big gray.
    Emerging from the trees, he drew up to scan the countryside. There was the danger in following their trail that he might be careless about other considerations.
    Kelsey might have men up in here, and there was always the chance of a war party of Indians.
    He saw nothing to warn him of any trouble and he moved on, holding the horse to a swift pace.
    He knew he could not allow himself to remain long on their trail. Ironhide and Schwartz were as trustworthy as any two men could be, and Ironhide was a good man on a trail, but Sweetwater Gap was narrow and it was too early for all the snow to be gone. They would surely need help, and lives were more important than money.
    Corporal West was frightened. He had been suspicious of Lieutenant Brian's motives, but without Dorsey's encouragement he would not have made the break. But this was the shortest way out of the mountains, and now it would be a hard, fast ride to Fort Bridger. If he brought this off it would mean a ser- geant's stripes for him, but that was less in his mind than the saving of the payroll with which he had been entrusted.
    They rode swiftly, needing all the distance they could get. Would Brian leave the women and follow them? He doubted it, but of all the officers in the unit, not excepting Devereaux, Brian was the man least to be trifled with.
    They forded Silas Creek in a swampy area and struck a dim trail leading south across the basin.
    He glanced back, and saw nothing. Dorsey was following him, some thirty feet back, and Dorsey grinned at him when he looked around, and there was something in the grin that West did not like. Yet he felt that perhaps he was finding fault where there was none.
    Dorsey had at least agreed to come with him.
    The horses were making hard work of it, for they must be almost ten thousand feet up. He slowed to a walk, then stopped