Holmes on the Range Read Online Free PDF Page B

down on his knees and started crawling through the grass.
    â€œThird time in as many days,” he muttered.
    â€œThird time in as many days
what
?”
    He shot me an annoyed glance. “Third time in as many days I’ve had to figure I’m the only man here with eyes in his head.”
    My brother’s always had a talent for tracking, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let him get uppity about it.
    â€œAlright, Chief Eagle Eye,” I said. “Just tell this deaf, dumb, blind white man what it is you think you see.”
    Old Red pointed again. “You’re blind alright if you can’t tell me what that is there.”
    Grass was all I saw. I had a feeling that wasn’t the answer Gustav was looking for.
    â€œWell, now that you point it out, it’s plain as day,” I bluffed.
    â€œThat it is. Same as this.” He pointed at a muddy patch nearby.
    â€œWhy, sure. I can’t believe I didn’t see it right off.”
    Old Red nodded. “And I
know
you can tell me what this is.” He nudged a moist cow patty with his boot.
    â€œWell, of course.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œIt’s. . .well. . .”
    â€œIt’s bullshit, brother—like half of what comes outta your mouth. Now just grab the reins of my pony and follow behind. I want to see where this trail goes.”
    I cussed, but did as I was told. For years I’d been letting my brother say things to me no other man could—probably because he was the only other Amlingmeyer left to say
anything
.
    He moved off through the grass slowly, stooped over like a chicken hunting for something to peck. I ambled after him with the horses. After we’d poked along like that maybe five minutes, it became clear where we were headed. There was a rocky, shrub-covered bluff half a mile to the east. Whatever my brother was following, that’s where it had gone.
    We never made it there ourselves. Gustav straightened up and turned to the northwest, and there was Spider bearing down on us hard. It looked like he planned to send his horse right up my brother’s chest and down the other side, but Old Red just stood there and watched him come. When Spider finally reined up, his horse was practically stepping on Gustav’s toes, yet he didn’t get a flinch out of my brother. Me, I jumped enough for the both of us.
    â€œWhat the hell are you doin’?” Somehow Spider knew to yell this at Old Red. I was just my brother’s movable hitching post. “You’re supposed to be workin’ on a windmill. We’ve told you dumb bastards not to—”
    â€œI’m trackin’ a man,” Gustav said calmly.
    â€œ
What?
”
    â€œYou asked what I’m doin’. I’m tellin’ you.”
    Spider pushed the brim of his sweat-soaked Boss of the Plains up high on his head.
    â€œSay again?”
    Old Red pointed at the spot where he’d hopped off his horse a few minutes before. “Someone’s been messin’ with grouse nests back there. Huntin’ for eggs or a nice, tender prairie chicken, I reckon. Funny thing, though—whoever it is, he don’t seem to have a mount.”
    â€œHe’s on foot?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œHey,” I said, putting my two bits in for the first time, “you think maybe—?”
    Spider threw those bits right back in my face. “Keep your trap shut.” He turned toward Gustav again. “This trail you’re on—any idea where it leads?”
    Old Red shrugged, which was probably a lie in itself. “Have to keep followin’ it to know that.”
    â€œAlright.” Spider took a good look around—and it wasn’t to admire a pretty sunset. He was marking the spot. “Get back to your bunkhouse and don’t breathe a word of this to
anybody
. You do, I’ll pluck out your eyes and eat ‘em like a couple of boiled eggs. You understand