Chapter 33
“Hmm,” U.S. Marshal Clayton Mayfield grunted, observing the graves.
Animals had dug up one of them and gotten after that Blake brother, but Conn Sullivan and his friends had done the right thing, burying them.
Someone had been tending the stock, too, just like McKay had said.
Getting everything from McKay had been the simplest thing in the world. He’d asked in town where McKay was staying then rode out and found him and reminded him who he was and started asking questions.
Right away, McKay said, “I ride with the law, Marshal, not against it,” and he started answering all of Mayfield’s questions.
The only one that made him hesitate was when Mayfield asked for Conn Sullivan’s destination.
“Well…” McKay said and trailed off, clearly wanting to avoid conflict.
“You can’t ride with the law halfway,” Mayfield told him. “You’re either with me or against me.”
That brought him around.
“Poncha Springs,” McKay told him. “Toole and them are holed up in an abandoned mine down there, the Sierra Perdida.”
Now, standing here, finding everything at the Blake farm matched McKay’s testimony—the graves, the tended stock, the bullet holes in the barn wall, and the bloodstained pitchfork in the aisle—he figured the man had also been telling the truth about Poncha Springs and the Sierra Perdida Mine, too.
It wasn’t but a short ride.
A short ride but a significant stop, he suspected.
That was the feel of things.
He’d just been in Salida. That’s where he’d caught the train to Fairplay.
Looking back, even then, he could feel something in the air.
Had he sensed Toole and his men? Had they already holed up in the mine at that point?
Perhaps.
He didn’t hold onto any of these notions. He just let them pass through his mind, a thing he had learned to do after years of hunting bad men.
He turned a full circle, taking in the whole of the Blake farm.
A nice place. Neat and tidy. He liked that. He liked neat and tidy things very much.
Unconsciously, he brushed at the sleeve of his black jacket, whisking away a spot of dust.
Yes, he would take that short ride to Poncha Springs.
Of course, Conn Sullivan would get there first.
Which was all right.
Let them have at it.
Never hurry, never worry.
He would deal with whoever was left when he got down there.