Canyon.
Mulvaney was waiting for me. "Knowed the horse's walk," h e explained. Nodding toward the hills, he added. ''Too quie t out there."
The night was clear, wide, and peaceful. Later durin g the night, I awakened with a start, the sound of a shot ringin g in my ears. Mulvaney was sleeping soundly, so I did no t disturb him. Afterward, all was quiet, so I dropped off t o sleep once more.
In the morning I mentioned it to Mulvaney.
"Did you get up?" he asked.
"Yeah. Went out in the yard and listened, but hear d nothing more. Could have been a hunter. Maybe one of th e Benaras boys."
Two hours later I knew better. Riding past Maveric k Spring I saw a riderless horse grazing near a dark bundle tha t lay on the grass. The dark bundle was Rud Maclaren, and h e was dead.
He had been shot twice from behind, both shots throug h the head.
He was sprawled on his face, both hands above his head , one knee drawn up. Both guns were in their holsters, and hi s belt gun was tied down. After one look I stood back and fire d three shots as a signal to Mulvaney.
When he saw Maclaren, his face went white and h e looked up. "You shouldn't have done it, boy. The countr y hated him but they respected him, too. They'll hang a ma n for this!"
"Don't be foolish!" I was irritated, but appalled, too. "I d idn't do this! Feel of him! It must have been that shot I h eard last night."
"He's cold, all right. This'll blow the lid off, Matt. You' d best rig a story for them. And it had better be good!"
"No rigging. Ill tell the truth."
"They'll hang you, Matt. They'll never believe you didn' t do it." He waved a hand around. "He's on your place. Th e two of you have been feudin'. They'll say you shot him in th e back."
Standing over the body with the words of Mulvaney i n my ears, I could see with piercing clarity the situation I wa s in. What could he have been doing here? Why would h e come to my ranch in the middle of the night?
I could see their accusing eyes when the death wa s reported, the shock to Olga, the reaction of the people, th e accusations of Park. Somebody wanted Maclaren dead enoug h to shoot him in the back. Who?
Chapter 8
Strangely, the morning was cool with a hint of rain. Mulvaney , at my request, had gone to the Bar M to tell Canaval of th e killing, and it was up to Canaval to tell Olga. I did not like t o think of that. My luck held in one sense, for Jolly Benara s came riding up the wash, and I asked him to ride to Hattan' s to report to Key Chapin.
Covering the body with a tarp, I mounted and began t o scout the area. How much time I had, I did not know, but i t could not be much. Soon they would be arriving from Hattan's , and even sooner from the Bar M. One thing puzzled me.
There had been but one shot fired, but there were two bulle t holes in Maclaren's skull.
Carefully, I examined the sand under the body . And was struck by a curious thing. There was no blood! None on th e sand, that is. There was plenty of blood on Rud himself, bu t all of it, strangely enough, seemed to come from one bulle t hole!
* There was a confusion of tracks where his horse ha d moved about while he lay there on the ground, but at thi s point the wash was sandy, and no definite track could b e distinguished. Then horses' hoofs sounded, and I looked u p to see five riders coming toward me. The nearest was Canaval , and beside him, Olga. The others were all Bar M riders, an d from one glance at their faces I knew there was no doubt i n their minds and little reason for speculation that I had kille d Rud Maclaren.
Canaval drew up, and his eyes pierced mine, cold, calculating, and shrewd. Olga threw herself from her horse an d ran to the still form on the ground. She had refused to mee t my eyes or to notice me.
"This looks bad, Canaval. When did he leave the ranch?"
He studied me carefully, as if he were seeing me for th e first time. "I don't know, exactly," he said. "No one hear d him go. He must have pulled out sometime after