Six Gun Justice by David Cross Page A

that was the builder of the fire.
    He had traversed another half mile through the brake, and he could detect a stronger odor of smoke now, and see thin tendrils floating skyward a short distance ahead. Someone had built a campfire, or there was a structure of some sort out here, and this was a desolate place to build anything. As he got closer, he dismounted, and led his mare along, keeping his eyes on the tracks as he went. He placed a hand over the muzzle of the appaloosa, reassuring it, and sending it a message to be silent, as he reached a small clearing in the cedar. There in front of him was a run down cabin, with smoke coming from a metal chimney at the back. Jake figured it had probably been built by some prospector long ago, and abandoned when he had not found anything in the region worth pursuing.
    Tied at a makeshift rail in front were three horses. One of them he recognized as belonging to one of Murdock’s gun hands. It was a dapple gray, with a white face, and white stockings. He led his own mount off the trail into a grove of cedars that was a little thicker than the rest, and tied her to one of the branches. Loosening the thong from the hammer of his dragoon, he slipped quietly to within a hundred feet of the backside of the cabin, and hunkered down for a better look. He could see no movement outside, nor could he spot a guard posted anywhere, but he would have to be wary.
    Keeping low, he ran to the back corner of the building, and spotting a window on this side, he eased up to it, and raised his head slowly to the corner of the window, and peeped in. sitting at a table, were three of the gunmen that worked for the Circle M, drinking and playing cards. Jake remembered he had seemed to be in charge, when he had first visited Murdock’s ranch. A quick look around, told him that Sarah was not in evidence. If they had brought her here, they had her stashed someplace near by, and not in the cabin.
    Moving stealthily, he worked his way around the building, searching for another structure where they might have stashed her. All he found was a set of hoof prints and two sets footprints. One set was small, and his heart gave a leap, because they had to belong to Sarah. They led away from the shack, so he followed them, his hand resting lightly on the butt of his pistol. After a few hundred yards, he spotted to a large rocky knoll in front of him, with a small entrance, shored up by wood, further enhancing his thoughts of a miner building the cabin. He had thoughtfully taken the spy glass from his saddlebag, and he now trained it to the entrance of the mine. He strained his eyes, trying to see the inside, but it was much too dark in the interior to make out anything.
    He could not be sure whether Sarah was being held inside or not, but as he moved a little closer, he spotted another horse tied in a grove of stunted cedar, a little out from the mouth of the mine and to the left of it. He worked his way around to the grove, being careful to keep out of sight of the entrance, easing up on the horse to check out the brand. It was a Circle M mount all right. Whoever was in there sure as hell wasn’t up to any good.
    He jabbed the horse in the flank with a stiff thumb, making it grunt with pain, and causing it snort and whinny. Again he repeated the action, before moving quickly out of sight nearby, to watch the man inside stick his head out, to see what had startled his horse. Unable to see from the mine entrance, he came outside, and moved in Jake’s direction for a look-see. He had a new Winchester repeater in his hands, and was advancing toward his horse in a crouch, wary as he got nearer the spot where the animal was tied.
    He reached the spot where he had tied the horse, and looked around for any sign of what would have disturbed it. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he patted the horse on the neck making sounds of reassurance as he petted the animal, and gave another quick look around.
    “What’s the matter