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decent and protective.
    Again I studied the photographs. They were among the best I had seen. Could they have been done by Jackson himself? Studying the faces, I decided there was something about that of Newton that I did not like. It was weak, but there was something malicious there, too. Yet I should not be so quick to judge. I knew not the man nor the path he had walked.
    A board creaked, ever so faintly. My hand dropped to the gun and rested there.
    The faintest creak and then, as I watched, the knob turned slowly and then the door was pushed. The chair under the knob allowed no movement so I waited, giving him the chance to try again, amused at what my unknown visitor must be feeling.
    The knob slowly returned to its original positionand the strain on the door ceased. Footsteps retreated down the hall.
    Gathering the papers, I stored them in an inner pocket of my saddlebag, a pocket especially made for carrying warrants or other papers of importance. I would read them later, with a clear mind.
    Blowing out the light, I got into bed but kept my gun at hand.
    A man never knew.

CHAPTER 3

    R ISING AT DAYBREAK is a habit hard to break, so while the first light was turning the sky gray, I was up, taking a sponge bath in cold water, then dressing. Carrying my Winchester and saddlebags, I went down the hall. It was not a time at which to awaken a lady, but on the chance Molly might be awake I paused before what I guessed was her room. There was a subdued rustling within so I tapped on the door.
    There was a moment of silence, then a soft voice, “Yes?”
    “Talon here. Before you make any plans, talk to German Schafer at the restaurant.”
    “Thank you.”
    No one was at the desk in the lobby and the street was empty as well. A dog was lying on the boardwalk and he looked up as I stepped out, flopping his tail in greeting.
    “Hiya, pup!” I bent to touch him, taking the opportunity to glance up and down the street.
    Schafer was mopping the floor. “Coffee’s on,” he said. “I figured you’d be early.”
    “Too many cow-camps,” I explained.
    “Me, too. I rid with ’em all, or durned near. Ab Blocker, Charlie Goodnight, Driscoll, Slaughter … youname ’em. Mostly I was a puncher. Got to be a cook when they found out I could. Never aimed for it.”
    He brought coffee to the table. “You talk to that girl?”
    “Spoke to her. She’ll be coming in to have a word with you.”
    “Beats me, a young ’un like her traipsin’ around the country. Ought to be with her folks.”
    “Says she hasn’t any.”
    “Mebbe, an’ again, mebbe not. The way I figure it, she pulled out of someplace in a hurry. Bought herself those duds right off the rack, first place she come to, an’ then came as far as her money would bring her.”
    “She’s got money.”
    “Yeah,” he commented dryly, “she has now. I seen you stake her, an’ if I’d had the money I’d have done it. No place for a decent woman to be, her broke an’ all. Ain’t right.”
    “You figure she’s straight?”
    “I do. I seen a lot of folks one time or another, and I come to know something about ’em. That one’s straight but she’s runnin’ scared. There’s something back of her she wants to get clean away from.”
    He brought the coffeepot. “You want some eggs? Fresh this mornin’.”
    “There’s chickens here?”
    “Woman out east of town. She’s got herself some Rhode Island Reds and a few Wyandots. Doin’ all right, too. In cow country a body finds mighty few chickens.”
    Dishes rattled in the kitchen. I filled a cup, took a swallow and nearly burned my mouth. Then I openedthe saddlebag pocket and got out the letters that were addressed to the Magoffins.
    The first one had neither heading nor date. It started right off.
    Remember, if there are inquiries, you know nothing. I am sure there will be. You need not worry, for you will be taken care of. We are safely situated. The spot is lonely but pleasant and we will remain until