Free Autumn of the Gun by RALPH COMPTON Page A

he to know that Barnabas didn’t send that same telegram to every sheriff in half a dozen states? What’s he going to do?”
    â€œBeing a gambler myself,” said Nathan, “I’m counting on him backing out of that race in Little Rock. It’s all he can do, and now he’s got to come up with some way of disposing of the four horses taken from the McQueens.”
    â€œWithout bills of sale, what can he do, except turn them loose?”
    â€œHe might sell them in Mexico with no questions asked,” Nathan said, “but that’s a long drive with no proof of ownership. Tomorrow I expect Jackman to lead us to the four horses and the four varmints that took them.”
    â€œYou don’t think they’re at his stable?”
    â€œNo,” said Nathan. “I think he’s cautious enough to keep them hidden for a while, so he’ll have to assign men to watch them. Who would be more likely than the four varmints that took them from McQueen?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Vivian said. “It’s hard to disagree with a man who’s right as often as you are.”
    â€œTomorrow, then,” said Nathan, “we’ll keep our horses saddled and ready to ride. We don’t know when that telegram’s coming, so we’ll have to be prepared at first light. We’ll attract too much attention if we stake out Jackman’s saloon, but I reckon we can keep an eye on the sheriffs office and learn what we need to know. If he’s aware of Jackman’s shady dealings, when he gets that telegram he should head for the Five Aces at a fast gallop.”
    â€œThere’s a cafe and a mercantile across the street from the sheriff’s office,” Vivian said. “Between the two, we should be able to spend some time without arousing anybody’s curiosity.”
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    Nathan and Vivian had breakfast at the cafe across the street from the jail. It was still early, and there were no other patrons. The cook fed Empty in the kitchen.
    â€œWe can prolong breakfast until the mercantile opens,” Nathan said. “Then one of us can browse in the store, while the other takes a rest on the bench out front.”
    â€œI hope that telegram comes early,” said Vivian. “Waiting makes me nervous. I want this to be over and done.”
    â€œWe won’t be waiting too long,” Nathan replied. “If I know Silver, that telegram will arrive within two hours.”
    Nathan’s prediction was accurate almost to the minute. The clock in the courthouse tower was striking nine when the telegrapher reached the sheriff’s office.
    â€œWe’ll soon know,” said Nathan. “Now I’m nervous. If I’ve guessed wrong, Silver may put me down for a damn fool, and Holt will have ridden from Fort Smith for nothing.”
    They had been in the cafe having coffee, while Empty waited with the horses. Nathan paid their bill and they exited just in time to see the sheriff step out the door. He set out afoot, since the Five Aces was only two blocks away.
    â€œWe’ll walk, leading our horses,” said Nathan. “We want to be just near enough to be sure he’s actually going to the saloon. If he is, after receiving that telegram, it can only mean one thing.”
    It was still early and the saloon wouldn’t open for another hour. The sheriff pounded on the door until it was opened. He then went inside and the door was closed.
    â€œWe still don’t know if Jackman’s there or not,” said Vivian.
    â€œLikely it was Jackman that opened the door,” Nathan said. “Otherwise, I doubt the sheriff would have gone inside. He wouldn’t likely reveal the contents of that telegram to anyone else.”
    â€œIf he does ride out,” said Vivian, “I just hope we can follow without being seen.”
    â€œNot likely we’ll be seen,” Nathan said. “There’s some wild country to the