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bewildered.
    At the sound of a heavy thump between the stagecoach and rock wall where Mackenzie had just been standing, they all turned, their guns coming up cocked and ready. But they all breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that the body of one of the dead passengers had given way, fallen out of the leaning stage and dropped onto the ground.
    â€œJeez,” said Mackenzie, looking at the bloody, blank face staring aimlessly across the land, “we best get word to the law in Albertson about this.”
    â€œYeah, sure,” Brewer said absently, his attention drawn to the stagecoach’s rear freight compartment. He stepped down from his saddle, walked over to it and began inspecting it curiously.
    A few yards away, guns still in hand, Holly and Tadpole had stepped down from their horses for a closer look at the strongbox. “You think there was nobody left alive to open this money box?” Tadpole asked.
    â€œThat’s what I think, maybe,” said Mackenzie.
    â€œWant me to shoot this ole lock off of here?” Harper offered.
    â€œNo,” Mackenzie said firmly. “Leave the strongbox exactly like it is. You go fooling with it, next thing you know we’ll get ourselves accused of something we had no part in.”
    â€œAw, heck, Mac,” said Brewer, “anybody that knows us knows that we’re not thieves. There ain’t no way in the world we’d ever get accused of having a part in something like this.”
    Mackenzie stared at Brewer as he said to Harper, “All right, Tadpole, go ahead, shoot the lock off. Shoot a whole bunch of times so anybody near here will hurry in and catch us doing it—maybe figure we’re the ones did all this.”
    Tadpole started to point his range Colt at the lock on the strongbox. But he stopped and gave Mackenzie a confused look. “Was that another joke?”
    Still staring at Brewer, Mackenzie said, “Yeah, sorry, Tadpole, that was another joke.” But this time neither he nor Brewer laughed.
    â€œWe could be in a bad spot here, couldn’t we?” Brewer said quietly between the two of them. As he spoke he finished loosening the last strap holding the canvas freight cover in place.
    â€œYep, I’m thinking that we could,” said Mackenzie, “if we don’t play this thing right.”
    Brewer stopped what he was doing and started to refasten the straps he’d just loosened. But without the straps holding things in place, the canvas cover sagged, then spread open enough for several bags, bundles and small wooden crates to spill out onto the ground.
    â€œNo harm done,” said Mackenzie, seeing Brewer give him a look of apprehension. “Leave it like it is. We’ll say we found it that way.”
    â€œRight,” said Brewer, and he stepped back away from the freight compartment.
    â€œI’m wondering how we should do this,” Mackenzie pondered, rubbing the whisker stubble on his chin.
    â€œTwo of us rides to Albertson, two of us stays right here,” Brewer offered.
    â€œThat’s what I thought,” Mackenzie said. “But whoever stays here has got a lot of explaining to do if somebody shows up before the other two gets back.”
    They stood in silent contemplation for a moment. Finally Holly Thorpe said, “I say we ought to all go, tell what we saw here and get it over with.”
    Mackenzie stared down at the loose dusty ground and gave a troubled look. “We’ve been here,” he said. “We’ve left the tracks to prove it.”
    â€œI say we leave and go on about our business like we never saw anything,” Tadpole Harper threw in.
    The three looked at him, a bit surprised at Harper offering his thoughts on the matter.
    â€œThat’s right,” Harper added. “These folks are all dead. Us riding to Albertson ain’t going to bring them back to life. This territory is quick to stretch a man’s neck. After that it