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Show -9- si Up behind the rock Bert Cardon was frowning too. At once he had known he was not looking at Dick Martin and his gang, and after that, seeing the campers, he remembered that Martin had killed his brother Tim not last summer but fifty-odd summers ago. Depending on what year this one was; he wouldn't want to have to name it and take an oath on being right. But yes, he had already outlived three of his children and one of his grandchildren, and damned if he didn't have three or four greatgrandchildren! Just remembering them always made him smile as if he had outwitted someone. But, then, who were these men? Rustlers probably. Still, you couldn't get many cows into that little bitty pickup truck and those campers sure wouldn't haul any. But maybe this was just the loading crew, a really big operation traveled in style these days, and maybe they'd already loaded up four or five of those big semi's with his cattle and were just waiting for more trucks. Except somehow they didn't look like men who worked with cattle. Then that big bay horse down by the spring nickered again and this time his roan answered and he saw a boy come out of the shade to look around. Careful now. But he was just a shaver and had no gun. The boy walked over to another camper though, the fanciest one, and had a consultation with somebody in the shade there, and then another man was summoned. Really careful now. But that man began to doctor or something on that fancy cowboy's face! And then a man came out of that shade with his shirt up over his and looking just like an Arab. Maybe they were all crazy with the heat. Yes, look at the little runty man with his pant legs cut off, legs hairy and bowed worse than his own, a round-like-a-nailkeg man with a big-billed cap and a funny shirt and a heavy, ominous frown. That frown; watch him. |
