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Roughriding Senorita Saddle Pal Posts: 2850 Registered: Jan 2007	Posted January 15th, 2007 02:14 PM IP Here is the very first RR story i ever wrote! This was only after I'd watched a couple of movies, so the characters aren't as good as they could be. But it's not too bad! May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails! "I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted January 15th, 2007 02:14 PM IP

Roy Rogers
and the
Trouble
on the
Triple Heart

By Nina Rose Hansen

Part 1: An Attempted Murder

The sun shone through the tall Ponderosa pines of northern Montana. They sky was blue, and it was a perfect day. Down the dirt road winding through the pines, a lone rider was loping on his magnificent palomino horse.
The rider, U.S. Marshal Roy Rogers sat back in the saddle and smiled. He’d just finished rounding up a batch of ornery horse thieves, and now he was enjoying this casual ride just for fun.
“Seems kind of strange not to be chasing some criminal, huh, Trigger?” he asked, scratching his golden palomino stallion on the withers.
Trigger tossed his head up and down and snorted loudly. Roy laughed. “You sure know—”
Bang! Bang!
Roy whirled in his saddle. That sound, shattering the stillness of the sunshiny day, had been gunshots—coming from up the steep bank to the left of him. Then, instantly after the gunshots had ripped through the air, Roy’s hand froze on his reins as the unmistakable sound of a girl’s scream cut through the air.
Without hesitating a moment longer, Roy spun Trigger around and urged him into a pounding gallop, flying up the steep bank at top speed. Whatever was going on, someone needed help fast. Knowing that a moment’s delay might be fatal, he jerked one of his twin six-guns out of it’s holster and fired it off into the air.
“There,” he muttered. “Now they know they’ll be having company.”

Roy urged Trigger up the steep bank.

Instinctively, he had locked the direction from which the shots had come in his mind, and he ducked his head as he headed Trigger straight through the low branches on through the woods.
For a moment more, they flew on through the trees—and then they were out into a sunlit meadow abutting a creek. Quickly, Roy slid Trigger to a stop to get his bearings. Where had those shots come from?
Then his eye caught a quick flash of motion from the edge of the creek. After a second of focusing, he saw that a horse was lying on the bank there—the slim figure of a girl crumpled on its neck.
Instantly, Roy burst Trigger into a gallop. As he did so his mind pounded. Had there been a murder?
Then he forgot this thought as he saw the head of the girl ahead fly up, and she leaped to her feet.
“Oh no you don’t!” she shouted, drawing her arm back.
Before Roy could even begin to think what she was doing, Trigger sidestepped quickly and a golf ball-sized rock flew past Roy’s head—missing him by inches.
“Hey!” Roy shouted quickly. “Calm down!”
He reached the girl then and jumped off Trigger. Just ahead, the girl was standing next to the downed horse, her green eyes blazing fire. Her hand clenched a rock tightly, ready to throw. Judging by the aim he had seen with the last rock she’d pinged at him, Roy didn’t care for any more coming his way.
Then his keen blue eyes noticed something else. The girl had been crying. Her eyes were angry now, but there were tears still coming down her cheeks.
His manner instantly gentling, Roy pulled back his necktie slightly, exposing his U.S. Marshal’s badge. “I’m a marshal,” he said gently. “What happened?”

“What happened?”

For a moment, the girl stared at the badge. Then her hand—still clutching the rock—dropped slowly. Some of the fire went out of her eyes as she answered Roy’s question.
“I—I don’t really know,” she faltered. “I was just riding out here, looking for a couple of missing horses, and then next thing I know, three riders pop up over that hill and start shooting at us. They missed me, but—but they hit Darcy.” Her voice broke off in a stifled sob, and she quickly turned back to the mare, stretched out on the ground.
Roy wound Trigger’s rein around his arm and knelt down next to her. Blood was coming from an ugly wound on the mare’s neck. Suddenly, something about the placement of the injury caught Roy’s eye.
“Wait a minute!” he exclaimed, quickly moving his hand to the wound. “I don’t think she’s dead!”
The girl’s tear-streaked went white. “Not dead!” she gasped.
“No!” exclaimed Roy. “She’s just creased. Look!”
The girl reached out quickly and touched the wound. Her face lit up. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “You’re right!” She laid her head against the mare’s side. “Her heart’s still is beating!”
Roy nodded. “I think she’ll be all right. Let’s just wait here for a second.”
He stood up and took a good look at the girl. She was slender, with curly red-gold hair and green eyes with gold flecks in them. She was dressed in a fringed riding shirt and jeans.
“My name is Roy Rogers,” Roy said, taking her appearance in a glance. “Can you tell me what happened again, Miss—?”
She smiled a bit shakily. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “My name’s Jill Hunter.”
“Hunter?” Roy repeated. For a moment he wondered if he’d heard the name before. Somehow, it sounded familiar.
“Yes,” said Jill, looking a little puzzled. “Do you know someone with that name?”
Roy shook his head. “No. At least I don’t think so. But never mind. Please tell me what happened.”
“Well,” began Jill, “I was riding out today, looking for some stray horses. My father raised horses, you know. Anyway, when I crossed this meadow, I stopped for a moment to let Darcy get a drink of water. The next thing I knew, three mounted men burst out from the woods and began shooting at us. I ducked, and then one of the bullets hit Darcy and she went down. Then I heard another gun from a ways away, and the men took off. That’s when I saw you coming.”
Roy nodded. “The other gunshot was me,” he said. “I heard the men shooting and you screaming, and I got here—only to nearly be killed by a rock. Don’t you ever carry a gun, or do you always rely on more natural forms of defense?”
Jill flushed. “I’m sorry about that,” she said, looking down at her mare. “I thought you were another one of the men who had shot Darcy, and I wasn’t about to let that happen again. I’m sorry.”
Roy chuckled. “That’s all right,” he said easily. “Where’d you learn to throw like that?”
Jill laughed too. “I don’t know,” she said, and then cried, “Oh, look!”
Roy’s gaze followed hers downwards, and he saw that her mare was trying to sit up.
Immediatenly, Jill knelt down by her. “Oh, Darcy!” she exclaimed, cradling the mare’s head in her arms.
Roy dropped down next to her. “Take it easy,” he advised. “Give her a second to recover.”
The mare lurched to her feet then, and Jill threw her arms around her neck. “Oh, Darcy!” she cried. “You’re all right!”
Roy smiled. “Better not try to ride her for a few days,” he advised. “Unsaddle her, and leave her here. There’s everything she needs here. I’ll take you home.”
Jill looked at him angrily. “I’m not leaving her here to be shot again!”
Roy glanced sharply at her. “They weren’t shooting at your horse,” he said quietly. “They were shooting at you.”
She stared at him. “Then why didn’t they hit me?”
Roy pulled out the flowing sleeve of her shirt. “They came plenty close to it,” he said grimly.
She looked down at her sleeve. There was a neat bullet hole close to the shoulder. Her eyes stared at it for a moment, and then looked back to Roy.
“But why?” she demanded.
He looked around the clearing. “I don’t know,” he said, “but I don’t want to find out here.” He turned to Darcy, and slid the bridle off over her head.
Following his lead, Jill stepped to her mare’s side and slid the saddle off. “How are we going to bring the tack back?” she asked, dropping the leather on the grass.
Roy shook his head. “Just leave them here,” he said, swinging up on Trigger. “Those men weren’t ordinary thieves or bandits. There was some reason they wanted you dead, and it wasn’t any ordinary reason.”
He kicked his foot out of the stirrup, and motioned her to mount. With a last look over her shoulder, she did so, and swung up behind him.
“Are you sure Darcy will be all right,” she asked again.
Roy nodded sympathetically. “She’ll make her way home at her own pace. It’s the best thing for her.”
He touched Trigger with his heel then, and they were off at a fast lope. Jill shouted directions to her ranch, and they quickly covered the three miles to her home.
When they pulled up in the ranch yard, Roy looked around. It was a medium-sized ranch, with a cozy ranch house and a barn with outbuildings—but Roy’s keen eyes detected something different about this ranch. The barn and outbuildings, while in good repair, were badly in need of a good coating of paint. The posts of the corrals were old and warped, although the corrals themselves were put together well and not at all neglected. Clearly, this had once been a prosperous ranch, but something had happened to make it fall on bad days.
What?
Pushing this thought to the back of his mind, he pulled up Trigger at the hitching post, and Jill slid neatly to the ground. “Thank you very much for the help and the ride,” she said, smiling up at him.
Roy swung off Trigger. “You’re welcome,” he told her. Then he rested his hands on the hitching post, and looked straight at her.
“Miss Hunter,” he said, “I need to talk to you more about the men who tried to shoot you. Would you like to have your father come out?”
A mask slipped over Jill’s face. “My father died a year ago,” she said quietly.
With quick perception, Roy saw that she didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m sorry,” he said. For a moment he hesitated, and then went on, knowing he had no choice.
“Miss Hunter, I need to get to the bottom of this. Did your father have any enemies?”
Jill’s green eyes shot sparks. “My father was a wonderful person,” she said coldly. “He did not make enemies.”
Roy sighed. “I understand that, ma’am, but was there ever something that would have cause someone to hold a grudge against you or your father, no matter how unfair the grudge might have been?”
She looked sharply at him. “Mr. Rogers,” she said crisply. “Why are you asking all these questions?”
Roy looked at her. “I’m just trying to keep you alive,” he said earnestly. “Miss Hunter, face it. Someone, several someone’s, tried to kill you today. They failed. But they were not identified. There is absolutely nothing to keep them from trying again. And then next time, they might not fail.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Are you willing to take that chance?”
She stared at him. “How come you are doing this for a perfect stranger?”
“For one thing,” answered Roy patiently, “It’s my job. I have to investigate an attempted murder no matter who it was. For another, I’d have an awful hard time going to sleep at night, knowing that someone was out gunning for you, and that I might have been able to do something about it—and didn’t.”
Jill’s eyes dropped to the ground. For a moment, she said absolutely nothing, as she absently drew a pattern in the dust with the toe of her boot. Then her head came back up, and she looked at him.
“All right, Mr. Rogers,” she said, taking a deep breath. “There is a mystery about this ranch, and about my father. As far as I know, it has nothing to do with me. But I’d better tell you about it. I’m pretty worried.”
Roy sighed in relief. “I’d be happy to help you in whatever way I can,” he said earnestly.
She gave him a tiny nod, and motioned to the ranch house. “Won’t you please come in?”
Roy wrapped Trigger’s reins around the hitching post, and loosened his cinch. “I’ll be back in a little while,” he told the stallion, giving him a pat. Then he turned and followed Jill into her house.
She led the way through the front door, and showed him into a small, but very neat, tidy, and attractive living room. She turned to speak then, but before she could a kind-faced older woman, wearing a floury apron, walked in. She smiled at Jill.
“Hello, honey,” she said. “Excuse the flour, I’m in the middle of baking. Where’s Darcy? I only saw a palomino at the hitching rail.”
Jill shot a warning look at Roy. It clearly said, “Don’t say anything. Let me handle this.”
“She’s out in pasture,” Jill said cheerfully aloud. “Dottie, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Mr. Roy Rogers. Mr. Rogers, this is Mrs. Jeffries. She’s raised me from a baby, and put up with me for twenty years.”
Mrs. Jeffries shook Roy’s hand warmly, as he smiled.
“There’s been no putting up about it,” the older woman said, returning his smile. “Jill’s never been a might of trouble.”
Jill choked. “What about the time I threw the rock clear through both of the kitchen windows?” she asked wryly.
Mrs. Jeffries clucked. “Oh, that was bad,” she admitted. “But you’ve grown out of that now.” She smiled at Roy again, and bustled out of the room.
Roy looked at Jill. “I don’t think you’ve entirely grown out of it,” he said, his face serious, but his eyes twinkling.
Her eyes didn’t twinkle back at him. Moving nervously, she got up and shut the living room door. When she turned around to walk back, Roy was shocked at the change in her face. She had been smiling cheerfully when Mrs. Jeffries had been in the room, but now her face was white and drawn.
“Dottie’s back in the kitchen,” she said. “She won’t be able to hear us.”
Still moving jerkily, as if under tremendous stress, Jill came back and sat down across from Roy, clasping her hands around her knees.
Roy, very serious now, listened carefully as she began.
“It’s a long story, Mr. Rogers, but I think I should begin at the beginning to explain it all.” She took a deep breath, and then went on, “My mother died when I was quite little, and Mrs. Jeffries raised me. Dad—his name was James Hunter—was making a lot of money back in those days, so when I turned thirteen, he sent me away to a fancy boarding school, where my mother had studied when she was young. I’d come back every summer. When I turned eighteen, I came back here for good. But something was wrong, something was very wrong with my father. He seemed to love me as must as ever, but, at the same time, he seemed preoccupied, distracted, and very worried.”
“And this happened between two summers?” Roy asked. “It hadn’t been that way before?”
She shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said quickly. “That’s why I noticed it. Dad always had a great sense of humor, always laughing and joking. Something happened in between the summer I turned seventeen, and the summer I turned eighteen, that made Dad a completely different person. Before that, we’d always go on rides together. But after that, he’d go off by himself, and he made it very clear he didn’t want me along.”
“That sounds like an important clue,” said Roy quickly. “Did he ever carry anything on those rides? How often did he go? And do you have any idea where he went?”
Jill nodded. “He always went the same way,” she answered. “About once a month. After a while, it got so strange that I decided to follow him.”
“Why?” asked Roy, his eyes intent on her face.
She looked down at her hands for a moment, and then back at Roy. “Well, there had been a lot of strange things that week,” she said slowly, “They made me think that there was something seriously wrong. For some reason, I just couldn’t ask my father why they were happening.”
“What things, Miss Hunter?” questioned Roy.
“Well, Dad was very upset, and he also shipped a huge bunch of horses off for sale at an auction,” answered Jill. “He’d never done that before. He’d always sold them here, at our ranch, and he’d always been the fussiest thing on earth about what happened to his horses. So, I decided to follow him, and just see if I could get any answers. I followed behind for a while, and then we came out by an old granite quarry. Dad got off his horse and tethered it, and then began to slide down the walls of the quarry. I got off my horse, too, and crouched behind some rocks to watch. I’d brought a par of field glasses, but when I tried to use them, I found that they were a broken pair I’d forgotten to throw away. So I had to watch Dad without them. He slid all the way down the quarry, and then went into a cave at the bottom, right under me. I couldn’t see, but I could hear, and I heard voices, echoing up from the bottom of the quarry. I couldn’t make out any words, just the tones, but it didn’t take words to realize that Dad was very angry. He stormed like crazy. Only once did I hear another voice, but I know there was someone else there, and that it was a man. Then, after about fifteen minutes, Dad came out from the cave and began to climb up the slippery slope. I didn’t want him to catch me, so I ran back to my horse and raced for home.”
Jill stopped then. Roy watched her as she fiddled with the seam on her jeans. “Then what?” he asked finally, leaning forwards.
Jill looked back up. “It was only two weeks after that that my father died,” she said in a small voice.
Roy looked down at her, his eyes filled with pity. “Do you want to stop talking?” he asked, realizing how much pain this was causing her. “I could come back tomorrow.”
“No,” she said quickly. “I want to get it over with now. So, after I followed my father, nothing much happened for a while, except that Dad was even more upset than before. Then, one of the directors at my school, who had always sort of looked after me, came for a visit. He stayed a few days, and then left. The day after he left, my father had a heart attack. I called a doctor immediately, but by the time he got there, Dad had died. He was semi-conscious for a short while before he died, and he tried to tell me a lot of things, but I wasn’t able to understand any of them. The only thing I heard was ‘Don’t sell the ranch.’ I just had time to nod my head, and then he died.”
While she had been speaking, Jill’s voice had been getting choky, and as she finished her face crumpled, and she covered it with her hands.
Roy got up quickly and came over to her. “I’m sorry,” he said, gently laying his hand on her bent shoulders. “I shouldn’t have asked you to tell all this.”
She took her hands off her face. “No,” she said, her voice tight with control. “I need to get it out. I need to talk about it.”
Acknowledging her words, Roy nodded, sat back down, and waited for her to go on.
She was silent for a moment more, and then began again. “Nothing much happened after that,” she said. “The coroner’s report came back that Dad had died of a heart attack. We had the funeral, and then Dad’s lawyer, who he never used, opened the will. It was very simple. It left the entire ranch, and any procedes from the sale thereof, to me. Since I was only nineteen, it appointed Mr. Carson, the trustee of the boarding school where I went, as my guardian until I was twenty-one.”
She paused for a second. “I always thought that was strange,” she said, more to herself than to Roy. “I always thought that—” She stopped. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “That’s getting off the point. Anyway, Mr. Carson came out here right after he heard of Dad’s death, and wanted me to sell the ranch. He even offered to buy it, and then resell. But I couldn’t forget Dad’s last words. He didn’t want me to sell the ranch, so I didn’t. But when I tried to take over, I found things in an awful mess. There was almost no money in the bank, and Dad had sold even more horses than I knew. I managed to let most of the help go, and I did a lot of the range work in their stead. The men I kept are the best hands anywhere, and wonderful people into the bargain. The money I got from letting the other men go helped, and I was able to start going again. But things are still pretty bad. A few more problems like we’ve had, and the Triple Heart will go under.”
Roy’s mind hooked on her last sentence. “A few more problems,” he repeated. “What problems?”
She laughed a little, shaking her hair back from her face. “Oh, just little problems like there are on any ranch,” she said. “One of the main streams dried up, so we had to move a herd of horses, and some of the horses have gotten sick and died, and a few things like that. Nothing too bad.”
Roy was about to question her further, but just then Mrs. Jeffries came back into the living room.
“Funny,” the older woman said, glancing at the door she’d just opened. “I don’t remember shutting that…”
Then, shaking her head as if to free herself of the thought, she turned to Jill. “Dinner’s all ready,” she said. “Is Mr. Rogers going to eat with us?”
Roy looked over at Jill, about to say he needed to get back into town—but she had instantly manufactured a smile for Mrs. Jeffries’ benefit. “Oh, please do stay,” she said quickly, turning to him. “We can—finish afterwards.”
Roy thought quickly. He did want to finish talking to her, and he was glad of the excuse to stay on the Triple Heart premises a little longer. He didn’t know why, but something told him that there was something very dark and evil going on under the surface of things at the ranch, and that Jill was in real danger. And he didn’t want anything to happen to her. The more he heard of the whole mystery that surrounded the Triple Heart, the more he was determined to do all humanly possible to prevent anything happening to her.
He made up his mind. “I’d like it a lot, Miss Hunter,” he answered. “May I put Trigger in your corral?”
She smiled at him, and this time, he could tell it was a real smile. “Of course, Mr. Rogers.” she said. “And don’t call me Miss Hunter any more. It makes me nervous. My name’s Jill.”

“My name’s Jill.”

Roy grinned at her. “Fine, Jill,” he said. “Mine’s Roy.”
A twinkle—the first he’d seen there—began in her eyes. “All right, Roy. Let’s go put your horse away, then.”
*
Roy learned nothing more about the mystery at dinner. Jill talked cheerily about different subjects, and skillfully drew Roy into the conversation. He told them about some of the adventures he’d had before, including that last mystery he’d solved, about the uranium thieves.
When the meal was over, Roy stood up. “I’m afraid I need to get back to town,” he said. “It was a delicious meal, Mrs. Jeffries. Thank you!”
She smiled, pleased.
“It really was yummy,” Jill told her, then glanced at Roy. “I’ll walk you out to the barn, Roy,” she offered.
Once they were clear of the house, she turned quickly to him. “What do you make of all this?” she asked, her voice low.
Roy looked around, and then answered quietly. “I don’t know, Jill. I’m going back to town for tonight, but I’ll be back here tomorrow morning.”
He looked down at her. “Be careful,” he warned. “Don’t go off anywhere by yourself. If you have to leave the ranch yard, take one of your men with you.”
She frowned. “Is that necessary?” she asked. “I don’t think—”
“It’s absolutely necessary,” cut in Roy. “Don’t go anywhere alone. I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s serious. Those men who tried to kill you today are going to try again if they get the least opportunity. Don’t give them the chance.”
She nodded. “All right,” she said, and then stood quietly on the corral fence while Roy saddled and bridled Trigger. He swung up, and then rode over to the fence where Jill was perched. “Go on in now,” he said. “I’ll wait till you are there.”

“Go on in now.”

She slid down. “Good night then,” she said. “And—thanks, Roy.”
“Good night,” said Roy. “Make sure you lock your doors.”
She nodded and ran off. Roy waited till she had gone into the house, and then he headed Trigger out onto the road.
Once on the dirt stretch, He rode easily, but his eyes and ears were wide open. Trigger was a little antsy, prancing, trying to run. Roy reined him back firmly. He sat up a little straighter. The night was not yet completely dark, but it was clouding over and there would be no moon when darkness did eventually come.
He let Trigger trot.
*
Roy reached town without incident, and laughed at himself for being worried. Still, Trigger had been wary…
This thought still niggling at him, he rode up to the hotel where he had been staying while he’d wrapped up the business that had brought him here. In front of the false-front Old West-style building, he reined Trigger to a halt and sat still for a moment, thinking. Then he made up his mind.
Swinging down off Trigger, he tied him to the hitching rail and walked into the hotel. Taking the stairs two at a time, he went into his room, stuffed some clothing into a sack, added a couple cases of shells for his .45’s, and tied the whole thing up.
Walking quickly back down the stairs and outside, he fastened the bag onto the back of Trigger’s saddle, then he swung up quickly and reined the stallion around. He was going to talk to Gabby Whittaker—an old friend, who had a ranch close by. If Roy was right, he could be a big help.
*
When Roy reached Gabby’s ranch, the Zig Zag, he swung off Trigger without going to the house and led him into the barn. Knowing Gabby wouldn’t mind, he took off the saddle and bridle, brushed Trigger down, and then put him into one of the roomy box stalls. He dipped up a serving of grain, and poured it in Trigger’s feed trough.
“There you go, Boy,” he said.
As he spoke, The horse raised his smooth muzzle, and wiggled his lip at Roy.
With a chuckle, Roy turned and walked out of the barn and up to the house. He could see that it was mostly dark, except for the back room where a dim light glowed.
Knowing by this that someone was up, Roy knocked on the front door, and then leaned against the doorway to wait.
A minute went by. There was no sound from within, although he could still see the light. He knocked again. Still no response.
He slammed on the door. “Hey! Gabby!”
This time, he heard footsteps clumping to the door. “Aw, go away, whoever ye be,” growled Gabby’s voice. “Kin’t a poor old man hev some rest?”
Roy heard him coming, and a twinkle began in his eye. Without waiting, he turned suddenly and slipped out from the doorway.
Gabby, still muttering, jerked open the door and peered out into the blackness.
“Well, o’ all the yellow-livered tricks—” growled Gabby, his beard bristling, but got no further.
“Put ‘em up, pardner,” came a deep voice.
Gabby’s hands flew instinctive to his gun belt.
“I said put them up!”
Gabby glared, but obeyed. Then his look changed to one of joy when Roy stepped into the light. “Roy!” he exclaimed. Then his eyes darted around. “Quick, Roy,” he said, “There’s a reglar bandit out thar! Told me, me, Gabby Whittaker, ter put up my hands!”
Roy chuckled. In a deep voice he growled, “Put ‘em down, then!”
Gabby stared at him. “Ye—ye mean ye was the bandit?” he spluttered. “Well, o’ all the black-hearted—”
Roy slapped his shoulder lightly. “Just checking to make sure you’re careful,” he laughed. “Better work up on your draw.”
Gabby glared at him, but stepped out of the way for Roy to enter. Then he started to close the door—then jerked it open again. He peered cautiously out.
In the underbrush, a twig crackled.
Gabby sucked his head back in. “Are ye sure ye was that bandit?” he demanded.
But Roy had gone back to being serious. “I’ve got a reason for being here, Gabby,” he said.
“I should say ye do!” snorted Gabby. “Tryin’ ter skeer a poor old man out o’ his wits!”

“Tryin’ to skeer me!”

Roy couldn’t help chuckling at Gabby’s indignant face, but then he sobered. “I’m in the middle of another case and I may need your help,” he said. “Are Bob Nolan and the boys anywhere around?”
“Sure!” said Gabby. “They be out in the bunkhouse.”
Roy walked over to the telephone. “Good,” he said, picking it up. “Call them in, would you? I’ve got make a phone call.”
“Sure!” said Gabby, and then did a double take. “Ye—ye mean, go back out with that bandit?”
But Roy didn’t hear him. “Operator?” he said. “Please dial the Triple Heart ranch.”
“One moment, please.”
Roy waiting as he the phone rang.. Then the other end was picked up. “Hello?” said Jill’s voice.
“Hello, Jill, it’s Roy. Can you answer a question for me?”
“Sure,” said Jill. “What is it?”
“Can you can me the name of the doctor you called for your dad when—when he had the heart attack?”
The wire was silent a moment, and then Jill’s voice answered, “Dr. Macklin,” she said, sounding surprised. “Dr. George Macklin. Our family physician. Why?”
“Just a hunch,” answered Roy. “I’ll tell you more tomorrow.”
“All right,” said Jill. “Bye.”
“Bye,” said Roy, and hung up. He turned around, then said incredulously “Gabby!”
Gabby was covering himself with guns. He had two in his hands, and two in his belt. Over his head was draped a brown blanket.
“Gabby!” said Roy, beginning to laugh. “What on earth are you doing?”
Gabby whirled around. “I’m gittin’ a gun,” he barked.
“I saw that,” deadpanned Roy. “What’s the blanket for?”
“Blanket?” snorted Gabby. “This here thang’s no blanket. It’s some camyflage. I’m not aimin’ to git held up by no bandit again.”
“But, Gabby—” began Roy.
“No butting!” interrupted Gabby. “I knows you was the first bandit, but there’s liable to be ‘nother one out there. I heerd a twig snappin’.”
Roy stood up straight. “A twig crackled?” he demanded. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed his gun out of his holster. “Come on, Gabby!” he exclaimed. “There may very well be a bandit out there. A bandit that might also be a murderer.”
“Murderer!” stuttered Gabby, jerking up both guns and grabbing for his rifle.
“Ssh!” said Roy. “Come on!”
He slipped out the back door. On hands and knees, he crawled along the edge of the house. Just before he reached the front, his hand came down on a stick. Crack!
Up ahead, something crashed out of the bushes by the door and raced off into the night.
Roy jumped to his feet. “Come on, Gabby!” he said, taking off. “We’ve got to catch that guy!”
Gabby tried to fire all of his guns at once, with wild results. Then he dropped them behind him and ran with Roy, but it was hopeless. They chased the man to the road, and then they stood and listened. Hoofbeats were pounding away.
“What now?” demanded Gabby excitedly. “Let’s saddle up an’ git him!”
Roy shook his head. “No,” he said. “He’ll be long gone. Some one was following me, though.” He turned back to the house. “Let’s go wake up the boys. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
*
It was late before Roy, Gabby, or any of the Sons of the Pioneers—the music group Bob Nolan headed when he wasn’t working on Gabby’s ranch—got to bed. Roy had filled them in with a quick sketch with what he knew about the case.
“What do you want us to do?” Bob Nolan had asked when Roy had finished.
“Nothing too much,” Roy had answered. “I’d like it if you would just keep your eye open, and notice any new suspicious characters around town. Maybe later, we’ll do some real work, but right now, I’d just appreciate it if you’d just watch for any strange things in town, or gossip or rumors, no matter how far-fetched.”
Now, Roy was laying back in one of Gabby’s extra beds. He’d decided to make his headquarters there for a while. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow, was his last thought as he drifted off to sleep.

(Edited by Roughriding Senorita)

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Leah B. Saddle Pal Posts: 2746 Registered: Feb 2006	Posted January 15th, 2007 04:35 PM IP Thanks for posting that! I can't wait to read the rest! Hot Heads and Cold Hearts never solved anything. Vote for the Next Holiday Classic at thenextholidayclassic.com

yellowrose13 Deputy Marshal Posts: 364 Registered: Dec 2005	Posted January 15th, 2007 05:17 PM IP Hey, Senorita, that was great! I can't wait for the conclusion! "...there's nothin' in life that's worth doin', if it cain't be done from a horse..."

CowboyFan Saddle Pal Posts: 4267 Registered: Apr 2006	Posted January 15th, 2007 07:10 PM IP Me too! The first part was great! Thanks alot! 'Weep not but think that I have past Before thee o'er a sea of gloom Have anchored safe and rest at last Where tears and mourning cannot come' ~Emily Bronte My Blog...

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted January 18th, 2007 03:37 PM IP

I'm glad everyone liked the first part--thanks for your comments! I'm posting the next part now. By the way, I'm pretty serious about my writing--would you please critic it? I just mean--if there's a part you think is out of character, mention it, or maybe if you think one of my characters did something that the real one wouldn't--let me know, OK? THANKS!!

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Roughriding Senorita Saddle Pal Posts: 2850 Registered: Jan 2007	Posted January 18th, 2007 03:39 PM IP Oh no--my floppy is dying on me!! I'm going to keep trying to fix it--but I might not get the story posted today. I'm sorry!! May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails! "I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Roughriding Senorita Saddle Pal Posts: 2850 Registered: Jan 2007	Posted January 23rd, 2007 04:14 PM IP Good floppy today! Here's part 2 and 3 will be hard on it's heel! May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails! "I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted January 23rd, 2007 04:16 PM IP

Part 2: Dangerous Clues!

Next morning, Roy woke to the sound of the breakfast gong being clonged. He ate breakfast with Gabby and the Pioneers, and then headed out to saddle Trigger.
“Where’re you going?” asked Bob, saddling up his own mount for the day’s work.
“I’m going to talk to the doctor who attended to James Hunter right after he died,” answered Roy, flipping the stirrup over the saddle horn and cinching the saddle.
“How come?” asked Bob.
“I’ve got a hunch,” said Roy, taking the stirrup down and swinging into the saddle. “I think James Hunter didn’t die of a heart attack, at least not a natural one. I think he might have been murdered.”
Bob flipped his hat back and stared at Roy. “Why?”
“It’s just a theory,” answered Roy, “but it sure looks like James Hunter was being blackmailed for some reason or another. The regularity of the rides to the quarry especially point to that. I didn’t say anything about blackmail to Miss Hunter, because I know she’d have a fit at the idea. But it seems an awful coincidence that Hunter died just after he’d had the big argument with the man he was obviously paying a lot of money to.”
Roy rode Trigger over to the corral gate, and opened it. “I’m going now,” he said. “See you later, Bob.”
“Bye, Roy,” answered Bob. “Be careful!”
Roy just laughed, and headed Trigger towards town.
When he got there, he went straight to the small, brick house where Dr. Macklin lived. Swinging off Trigger, Roy tied him loosely to the hitching rail, and headed up to front door to knock.

Roy tied Trigger to the hitching rail.

A man answered the doorbell on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Hello,” said Roy. “I’d like to talk to Dr. Macklin. Is he here?”
“Right in front of you,” boomed the middle-aged man. “What’s on your mind?”
Roy introduced himself, and then said, “I’m here because I’d like to ask you a few questions about the late James Hunter.”
Dr. Macklin’s eyes went from a gay twinkle to being sharp as a razor. “Why?’ he asked unceremoniously.
“I’m trying to solve some mysteries connected with the Triple Heart Ranch,” answered Roy. “I’m acting for Miss Hunter.”
Dr. Macklin’s eyes looked at him keenly. “In that case,” he said, “you’d better come in.”
He led Roy into the house, and showed him into a small parlor. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He went out through the door, and Roy stood in the middle of the room, looking around. The room was small, and tastefully decorated. Some comfortable chairs flanked a fireplace. Then some photographs on the mantelpiece of the fireplace caught Roy’s eye.
Moving closer, he took a second look. There was a picture of a tall, smiling man, with his arms around a girl Roy guessed was about twelve. The face of the girl was unmistakable. It was Jill Hunter.
Jus then, the living room door opened, and Dr. Macklin came in, followed by a slim, middle-aged woman whom Roy guessed was his wife.
He was right. “This is my wife,” said Dr. Macklin. “I want her to hear whatever you have to say.”
Mrs. Macklin smiled at Roy. “Please sit down,” she said cordially.
Roy did so, and then leaned forwards, holding his hat in his hands. “Jill told me you were the doctor to attend her father after he had died,” he began. “Did you notice anything strange about his death?”
Dr. Macklin gave him a piercing glance. “Why are you asking these questions?” he asked pointedly.
Roy thought quickly. Dr. Macklin might have had a gruff air, but Roy was pretty sure it was because he was concerned about Jill and trying to protect her.
“I’m trying to help Miss Hunter,” he said. “She’s told me that she’s been having trouble at the ranch, and I’m trying to help.” He pulled out his marshal’s badge and handed it to the man.
Dr. Macklin looked at Roy one more time, and then sat back in his chair to inspect the badge. He glanced at it quickly, and then handed it back to Roy.
“All right,” he said.
His wife sent him a meaningful glance, and he cleared his throat. “Excuse me for being so blunt, but I felt I had to make sure that you were trying to help Miss Hunter.”
Roy nodded. He looked earnestly at Dr. Macklin. “Dr. Macklin,” he began, “was there anything at all suspicious about James Hunter’s death?”
Dr. Macklin exchanged a glance with his wife. She nodded slightly, and the doctor began, “Yes. James Hunter was one of the healthiest men I’ve ever seen. He always passed his annual checkups with flying colors. He had one of the best hearts I’ve ever heard. I can’t understand why he had a heart attack.”
Roy’s face remained calm, but his brain was going ninety miles an hour. “Does Miss Hunter know this?”
Dr. Macklin shook his head, but before he could say anything, his wife broke in. “We didn’t tell Jill for two reasons,” she said quietly. “Number one, she was terribly upset by her father’s death. She wasn’t in any state to hear anything about possible suspicions regarding her father’s death. Number two, we had no proof. Mr. Hunter could have died of a natural heart attack. We had no proof for our suspicions.”
“What were your suspicions, Mrs. Macklin?” asked Roy.
Dr. Macklin broke in. “Mr. Rogers, I want you to know that anything you hear after this is not to be spoken of until we give you express permission. And you are not to tell Jill Hunter of any of it. Is that understood?”
Roy hesitated. He didn’t want to promise, but he could clearly see that Dr. Macklin was not going to give him any answers if he didn’t. “All right,” he said finally.
“Good,” said Dr. Macklin. “Here’s what we think. My wife was a chemist before our marriage. When James Hunter died, I thought it was so strange that I took a vial of his blood.”
“I tested the blood for any strange substances,” said Mrs. Macklin.
“Did you find anything?” asked Roy.
Mrs. Macklin hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Yes. There was a foreign substance in the blood that I couldn’t identify. I have no idea what it was, only that it should not have been there and was definitely some sort of man-made chemical.”
Roy’s suspicions were confirmed. “Then you think Mr. Hunter might have been poisoned?” he asked quietly.
“In such a way as to make it look like a heart attack,” finished Dr. Macklin.
Roy suddenly decided to make a bold move.
“Why didn’t you tell Jill this?” he asked suddenly. “Withholding information about a crime is serious.”
Dr. Macklin sat bolt upright, but before he could speak, Mrs. Macklin laid her hand on his knee.
“We told you, Mr. Rogers,” she said, her voice calm. “We were both afraid that it might have a serious effect on Jill if she knew that, and, also, it would never bring her father back. We thought about it a good deal, and then we made the decision we made.”
Roy twisted his hat in his hands, trying to find the right words to say. His reason for asking the question in the way he had was to make sure that the Macklins were not involved in the murder of James Hunter. From their reaction, he was sure they were not—but now that didn’t take away the fact that Jill had no knowledge that her father had almost certainly been murdered.
“I respect your decision,” he said finally, “but things have changed somewhat since then. Someone tried to kill Jill yesterday.”
Both the doctor and his wife sprang to their feet. “Kill Jill?!” they chorused incredulously.
Roy nodded, and briefly explained the events of the day before. The Macklins were shocked and horrified. “What on earth is going on?” demanded Mrs. Macklin. “Jill never told us any of these things.”
“I wish I knew,” answered Roy. “But I’m trying to find out. I’m awful short on clues, though. Do you have any idea, anything at all, why James Hunter might have been being blackmailed?”
Both the doctor and his wife shook their heads. “Certainly not,” declared Mrs. Macklin. “James Hunter never did anything to give anyone any reason to blackmail him. He was honest as could be, and a wonderful person. I can’t imagine him doing anything even slightly off-color.”
Dr. Macklin vehemently agreed.
Roy sat still. “I understand,” he said finally. He was about to say something more, when his gaze suddenly fell on his watch. He stood up quickly. “It’s eleven o’ clock already!” he exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Macklin, Doctor, but I need to go.”
The couple stood up and showed him to the door. Before he left, Mrs. Macklin pulled him aside. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “Please keep an eye on Jill.”
Roy nodded. “I intend to,” he said—then his mouth twisted up in a little smile. “Although I have the feeling that might not be easy.”
She sighed wryly, and nodded agreement. “Please don’t hesitate at all to call us if there’s anything wrong.”
“I won’t,” answered Roy. “I’ll keep you posted.”
*
The ride out to the Triple Heart Ranch was completely uneventful. Trigger moved swiftly along, not at all disturbed as he had been the previous night.
When Roy rode into the ranch yard, he saw a herd of horses in one of the corrals—then he saw Jill, walking along on a blue roan mare in a separate corral.
Reining Trigger around, Roy rode over to the corral and looked through the poles. A couple of cowboys were perched on the fence, and they looked at him as he approached.
“Howdy,” one of them said.
“Hiya,” answered Roy, sliding off Trigger and climbing up on the fence. “What’s Miss Hunter doing?”
“Breaking in a new mare,” answered the cowboy. “She’s been up since dawn. We rode out to the far range and brought the horses in, and now she’s getting them used to a rider.”
Roy looked again at Jill. Intent on her mount, she had not yet seen him. “She always do that?” he asked.

Roy looked again at Jill.

The cowboy nodded. “She likes to work with all the horses we sell broke. Best horse wrangler for quite a ways,” he added with a touch of pride, turning back to the corral.
As he did so Roy also turned his attention inside. Jill, concentrating on her mount, still had not seen him. As she made another round of the corral, Trigger suddenly whinnied. The roan mare’s head flew up, and she nickered a greeting back.
Jill’s eye quickly followed. As she saw Roy, an expression of pleasure and then worry crossed her face. Riding up to the gate, she slid neatly off.
“That’s all for this one,” she said, patting the mare. “Will you unsaddle her and turn her out, please, Jones?”
The cowboy Roy had talked to tipped his hat. “Yes ma’am,” he said, sliding into the corral and taking the mare’s reins. Jill smiled her thanks and then climbed the corral quickly and dropped down next to Roy.
“Hi! Darcy came back last night. She looks good as new.”
“She must be devoted,” said Roy. Then he grinned at Jill wryly. “Let’s go over to the house.”
Sliding down from the corral fence, he led Trigger over to the hitching rail as Jill walked curiously beside him. In a low voice, he then spoke to Jill.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to go anywhere alone!”
She put her hands on her hips. “I didn’t,” she defended herself.
“Well, what do you call going out on a roundup?” asked Roy.
She shook her head. “You said, don’t go anywhere alone!” she reminded him. “I wasn’t. There was someone within sight at all times. Besides, the ranch work has got to be done. I can’t just leave it all to the hands and play sissy because someone’s been using me for target shooting practice.”
Roy rolled his eyes. He could see this discussion wasn’t going anywhere. “All right,” he said. “How did everything go last night and this morning? Anything suspicious?”
She shook her head. “Everything went fine,” she said, then looked up at him. “What was that hunch you had last night? Why did you want to know which doctor saw Dad when—” she broke off for a second, then went on— “when he died?”
Her direct question caught Roy a little off guard. He hesitated before answering, knowing he was bound by his promise to the Macklins not to tell Jill of the possible murder of her father. That was probably just as well. She didn’t need that right now. But she did need to know some of the stuff that was going on. He made up his mind quickly—and took a deep breath. He had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like his blunt words.
“Jill, I think your father was being blackmailed before his death.”
For a moment, she looked startled, and then her face grew hard. “My father did not ever do anything for someone to use in blackmail,” she said stonily.
Roy sighed. He’d figured this would be her reaction. Swiftly, he began to explain the reasons for his thoughts.
As he spoke, Jill just stood there staring at the ground. For a moment, Roy thought she was ignoring him—and then saw her hands. They were balled into fists so tight the knuckles were white—and he knew that they betrayed her feelings.
Finally, he finished, and stopped speaking. The next move was hers.
She took a long time to make it. Roy just stood there, waiting, and finally she took a deep breath and looked up.
Before she could say a word, a woman’s terrified scream split the silence, coming from the house.
Jill’s face went white. “Something’s happened to Dottie!” she gasped. Whirling around, she broke into a run, heading for the house.
Roy dropped Trigger’s reins to ground tie him and ran after her. Together, they burst through the front door.
Letting the door bang shut, Jill skidded to a stop and looked around frantically. “Dottie?” she shouted. “Dottie! Where are you?”
“In here!” came the housekeeper’s terrified voice from down the hall. “Help!”
Jill’s head whipped back to Roy for a second. “She’s in my room!” she said quickly “Come on!”
Roy grabbed her arm firmly. “Wait a minute!”
Ignoring Jill’s protests, Roy pushed her behind him, and quickly dashed into the bedroom.
It took him a fraction of a second to glance around them room—then he saw the housekeeper, standing pressed against the closet door. Just in front of her, its thick body coiled, hissed a huge rattlesnake.
As Roy saw this, he heard Jill, behind him, draw a quick breath and start to push past him.
“Get back,” he ordered. His voice was toneless but his hand—still gripping her wrist—left no doubt of the seriousness of his words. Then he added, to the white-faced housekeeper, “Don’t move, Mrs. Jeffries.”
She nodded a tiny bit, in acknowledgment of his words. Then, moving slowly, Roy slid his free hand back and drew out one of his revolvers. Still making sure his motions were slow and smooth, he cocked the lever back and aimed carefully at the rattler’s head.
He knew as he did so that he had to be accurate when he fired. If he aimed one inch to the side, he’d miss the head and the injured rattle would strike at Mrs. Jeffries. At this range, it wouldn’t miss.
There. The gun was cocked and ready to go.
He pulled the trigger.
Bang! The bullet left the six-gun’s barrel and whizzed straight and true. The rattlesnake’s head flew off, hit squarely. The body writhed harmlessly for a second, and then lay still.
In the moment of silence after the gun fired, everyone stood still for a second—and then Mrs. Jeffries burst into tears. Jill slipped past Roy and threw her arms around the woman. “It’s all right now,” she crooned. “You’re all right.”
Seeing that she was taking care of the older woman, Roy slid his gun back into the holster and picked up a newspaper lying on a table in the room. He pushed it under the dead snake and folded the whole thing up.
By then, Mrs. Jeffries had regained her composure, and was dabbing her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry I lost my head,” she sniffed. “I’m all right.”
Jill patted her on the back. “Where was the snake?” she asked, her voice still reassuring.
Mrs. Jeffries pointed to the foot of the bed. “It was underneath there,” she explained. “When I leaned over the bed to change the pillow cases, it slithered across my foot.”
She shuddered, and Jill put her arm around her. “Never mind,” she said. “I’ll go make you a cup of tea.”
She walked the older woman out of the room, and Roy was left inside. Grimly, he turned over the bundle containing the dead rattlesnake, and then walked out the door. He stuffed the package on the front stoop, and then went back into the house.
As he came back inside, Jill was just coming out of the kitchen.
“Oh, Roy,” she said quickly, catching sight of him. Shutting the kitchen door behind her, she hurried towards him.
“I’m sorry I was snippy before,” she apologized. “Thank—thank you so much for helping Dottie.”
Roy’s eyes twinkled. “No problem. Besides, I felt sorry for the snake. I decided I’d put it out of its’ misery quickly you bit it’s head off. You looked about mad enough to do it.”
He sobered then and looked at her seriously. “Jill, do you have any ideas about how that snake got into your bedroom?”
Her face immediately took on the guarded look that Roy was beginning to recognize. “Oh, I know what you’re going to say,” she said. “But it must have been an accident.”
Roy tapped his toe on the floor and looked keenly at Jill. “Why don’t you show me how it got in your room accidentally, then? I suppose it slithered through the window?”
Jill stared at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Then she sighed. “All right,” she said. “You win. It couldn’t have gotten into my room. Unless—”

“Unless—”

“Unless someone put it there,” finished Roy. “Jill, I don’t want to scare you, but you’d better face up to it. Someone is on your trail. Someone who sure doesn’t like you.” Then his eyes twinkled a little. “One the other hand, maybe it would do you some good to be afraid of something. I’ve yet to see something that makes you scared.”
Instead of getting mad, or laughing, as Roy had expected, Jill’s face went white. “I am afraid,” she said, so low he could hardly hear. “I’m afraid that you are right. I’m afraid my father was being blackmailed. I don’t want to find out that that’s true. I’d rather be dead than to find out something like that about my father.”
Roy didn’t say anything for a moment. So she’d suspected the truth all along. Then, trying to use the right words, he spoke slowly.
“I’m not sure about the blackmail,” he said. “But everything points to it.” He looked at her, his face very serious. “Jill, are you absolutely sure that there wasn’t anything in your father’s past that would have given a blackmailer anything to work with?”
She met his gaze squarely. “Yes I am,” she answered unflinchingly.
Roy appraised her face for a moment, and then nodded. “I believe you,” he said.
Her gaze dropped then. “I’d better get on with the breaking in,” she muttered, and headed back to the corral.
For a moment, Roy looked after her. He’d meant what he’d said about believing Jill—but he was still sure that there was something—something which Jill was completely unaware of—something that had given someone reason to kill her father, and something that was now motivating someone to try to kill her.
Well, there was no good just standing here thinking about. With a sigh, he turned around to mount Trigger. But then, before he could, Mrs. Jeffries came to the front door of the ranch house.
“Telephone for you. Mr. Rogers,” she called.
“Thanks! I’ll be right there.” He retied Trigger’s rein around the hitching post and ran up the steps into the house.
“The phone’s in there,” said Mrs. Jeffries as he reached her side, pointing to the living room. She smiled and went back into the kitchen.
Quickly, Roy walked into the living room and lifted the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, Roy,” came Pat Brady’s—one of the Sons of the Pioneers—voice.
“Pat!” exclaimed Roy. “What’s up?”
“Think I got a clue for you,” answered Pat. “Been askin’ around town, and I talked with a clerk in the hotel where you’ve been living. He used to work in a hotel in Grizzly Butte, a town a few miles south. Seems like a man always stayed at this hotel, once a month, for the past year. That’s ‘bout all the information I got, but it sounded like a good clue.”
“That’s great! Oh, wait, which hotel did this guy work in?”
“The Western Sun,” answered Pat. “I told him your name and he’s expectin’ you.”
“Thanks a million,” said Roy excitedly. “I’ll ride in right away.” He was about to hang up the phone, when he thought of something and quickly raised the receiver to his ear again.
“Pat, you still there?”
“Sure am,” answered Pat. “What now?”
“Will you be around for a while?” asked Roy.
“Yep, I’m doin’ kitchen duty back here at the ranch.”
“Good!” said Roy quickly.
“Are you saying it’s good to be doing kitchen duty?!” Pat’s voice was so high with indignation that the phone crackled.
Roy grinned. “No, no,” he hastened to assure Pat. “I mean it’s good you’re there at the ranch. I’m going to tell Jill you’ll be there, so she can call you is something goes wrong. That okay with you?”
“Sure is,” answered Pat. “Hope she calls! Might get off of kitchen duty then!”
Roy hung up, laughing. Setting the phone down, he called, “Thanks, Mrs. Jeffries!” and then hurried out.
As he ran down the front porch steps, he saw that Jill was alone in the corral, working on another mount. Swinging quickly up on Trigger, Roy reined him around and headed over there to talk to her.
“I’m riding into town,” he told her, stopping at the fence. “I might be back this evening, but I’m not sure. If something goes wrong, call the Zig Zag Ranch. A friend of mine will be there to help you.”
Jill halted her mount and steadied him. “Thanks,” she said, smiling up at Roy. “Nothing will go wrong.”
Roy returned her smile, as he realized that she was apologizing for her curt manner earlier. He tactfully didn’t say anything about it, though, just nodded and said “Good!” in response to her assurance that nothing would go wrong.
With a wave then, he wheeled Trigger once more and rode off down the road to the town. As they cleared the ranch gate, he urged the stallion into a fast lope, and they flew down the road. His mind went back to what Pat had told him. That clue was the break in the case he’d been looking for. Now, if he could round up a suspect, he might be able to find something out about the attacks on Jill—and he was betting that if that happened, he’d also find out who’d killed James Hunter a year ago.
It took him ten minutes to get into town, Trigger’s long legs making short work of the miles. Once they reached the village, Roy trotted the stallion through it to the hotel and then swung off.
After wrapping Trigger’s reins around the hitching post, he walked into the building, and up to the desk where a middle-aged clerk sat.
“Hello,” said Roy. “My name’s Roy Rogers. I’m here—”
“Oh, yes,” said the clerk, nodding in recognition. “Your friend was in here before.”
Roy nodded. “I know. He said you had seen a man in the Western Sun several times last year.”
“Yup,” agreed the clerk. “He’d always show up for a few days around the first of the month, and then leave.”
“Can you describe this man?” asked Roy quickly.
The clerk rubbed his head. “Well, he was tall, with a mustache, and he always wore a black cowboy hat. He had a real deep voice, sort of growly. Other than that, I can’t tell you much.”
“What about his eye color? Do you happen to remember that?”
The clerk frowned. “I’m not sure…” he began, but then he straightened. “I remember now! His eyes were green. Bright emerald green. I’m positive.”
Roy stuck out his hand. “Thanks a lot,” he said gratefully. “This has been a big help.”
“Glad to do it,” replied the clerk.
With a nod to the man, Roy walked quickly out of the hotel and swung up on Trigger. Now for the next step. He had the clue he was looking for—now to use it!
*
Ten minutes later, Roy galloped Trigger into the Triple Heart ranch yard, glancing around as he did so for Jill. Before he could pull up, though, a wild uproar came from inside the barn. Men yelling and a horse’s wild scream of terror!
“Look out!” screamed a girl’s voice!
With a start, Roy recognized the voice as Jill’s! What had happened now?
He quickly slid Trigger to a stop, but before he could get off or anything a horse suddenly came plunging wildly out of the open barn door. Jill was on its back, trying desperately to calm the animal—but Roy could see that the terrified horse was past calming. It gave one twist that sent Jill almost out of the saddle, and then took off at top speed, racing out from the ranch yard towards open country.
Roy didn’t hesitate an instant. “Go, Trigger!” he yelled, touching the stallion with his spurs. Instantly, the big golden horse leaped forwards in pursuit. At top speed, they flew after Jill and her mount.
In a few seconds, Roy could see that they were gaining—and that Jill was in deadly trouble. The reins had been jerked out of her hands when the horse had bucked, and now they were whipping around its pounding feet. And then—Roy’s hands tightened on the reins—Roy saw that the saddle was starting to slip!
Almost in slow motion, it slid over, over, over! Roy knew without a shade of doubt that if Jill fell at this speed, she’d be killed for sure.
With this thought driving him on, Roy leaned low over Trigger’s neck and drove him forwards. Trigger obediently put on more speed—but the saddle was slipping too fast. They weren’t going to make in it time.
Then ahead, he saw Jill suddenly kick her feet free of the stirrups. Was she going to jump?
Roy opened his mouth to shout a warning, but then he saw that she was not jumping. Her feet now free of the tangling stirrups, she grabbed a fistful of man and flipped herself forwards onto the bolting horse’s withers. No sooner had she done it when the saddle slipped completely under the horse’s belly—but Jill was still on top, holding on to the mane.
Roy drew a breath of relief—but it was short-lived. The one danger was gone—but now the horse, completely panicked by the saddle, was running at such speed as to make a fall almost certain. And—
Then every thought went out of Roy’s head. He’d just glanced up and seen the worst thing possible—a tall board fence, running for almost a mile a hundred yards away. The way Jill’s mount was running, he was either going to try and jump it—or go right through it.
Either way, Jill couldn’t stay on. Roy realized that there was only one thing to do—he’d have to pull Jill off.
He took a split-second stock of the situation. Trigger’s pounding strides had carried them closer—they were now even with the runaway’s tail. But at the speed they were traveling, that wasn’t fast enough.
Roy leaned low over Trigger’s neck, and asked the big stallion for every ounce of speed he had—and the horse responded. Roy could feel him drop lower underneath him as he kicked in one more gear and suddenly seemed to gain wings.
He was even with the runaway’s rump now… now was even with Jill!
A glance up told Roy the fence was just ahead. It was now or never!
He shifted his reins to his left hand and shouted, “Let go, Jill! I’ll catch you!”
For an instant, he could see Jill hesitate. Then, her fingers loosened and she let go.
The second she did so Roy buried his rein hand deep in Trigger’s mane and leaned way over. He knew he had about two seconds to grab Jill and stop Trigger before they reached the fence. This was going to be close!
Now, sliding loose on her horse’s back, Jill started to slip towards him. Moving like lightening, Roy grabbed her around the shoulder tightly.
“Hold on!” he yelled.
The fence was just in front of them—there was only one way to stop from jumping it. Still holding on Jill, Roy pulled his reins out of Trigger’s mane and pulled him up in a screaming, rearing stop—his hooves clipping the fence as he did so, and as Jill’s mount somehow crashed over.
For a second or two, Trigger’s hooves reached for the sky as he fought for balance. Then, slowly, he sank back down. As he did so, Roy slid off and lowered Jill gently to the ground. She sagged against him, her breath ragged as she tried to recover.
“Nice riding,” commented Roy with a twinkle.
She tried to snort. “Nice—riding!” she gasped. “More like—you did—nice riding!”
She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “Thanks,” she said. “I thought that—was going to be it—with that fence.”
“Me too,” agreed Roy. “Good thing Trigger made it there in time.”
She smiled shyly. “Good thing you got there, too.”
Roy grinned—then turned quickly as hoofbeats came pounding from behind. Jill turned as he did so, and they saw that the two ranch cowboys were coming as fast as they could. As they reached Roy and Jill, they drew rein and screamed to a stop.
“You all right, Miss Hunter?” demanded one of them—Roy recognized him as the man he’d talked to this morning.
She smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine, Jones. Roy pulled by off.” Suddenly, Jill frowned. “What on earth made Bowtie act like that? I’ve ridden him a thousand times and never had anything like that happen?”
Jones shook his head. “I don’t know, Miss Hunter.” His face was lined with worry. “Never saw anything like that. You could have been killed.”
Jill brushed that statement off. “He’s going to run himself to death,” she said worriedly. “Jones, go on after him. Ford, may I borrow your horse?”
Before the cowboy could answer, Roy shook his finger in Jill face. “Oh no you don’t!” he told her, picking up her wrist. “Look at your hands.”
Jill’s glance dipped down, and she saw what Roy had—her palms were cut and dripping blood.
“You must’ve cut your hands on the mane,” said Roy. “Come on. We’re going back to the ranch house and treating those hands.”
Jill started to protest, but then stopped. “All right,” she sighed with a martyred air. “Ford, you go along after Jones. I’ll be there as soon as this—this nursemaid lets me.”
Grinning maddenlingly, Roy helped Jill mount Trigger and swung up behind her. “Don’t touch anything with those hands,” he warned. “You’d be headin’ straight for blood poisoning—and I don’t think I’ll be able to get you out of that predicament too.”
“Heaven forbid!” said Jill wryly. “You getting me out of these predicaments and saving my life constantly is getting embarrassing. I always did that myself.”
“And did it well, why don’t you add,” teased Roy. “I’ll make sure I’ll call on you next time I need my life saved, so you can discharge your debt.”
“I’ll make sure I’m there!”
They rode quickly back to the Triple Heart ranch house, and as soon as they reached it, Roy took Jill into the kitchen to treat her hands. After the treatment—consisting of a little antiseptic and a lot of white tape—was completed, Jill waved her white mitts in the air.
“How on earth am I going to ride in these things?” she protested.
“You won’t be riding, not for a couple of days,” answered Roy, putting away the first aid kit.
Jill waved her hands frantically. “But—but, there too much to do! I’ve got to break in those horses and fix fences and bring the yearlings in from the south pasture and—”
“Relax,” Roy drawled. “You getting a nice infection will really speed things up. Sometimes, young lady, the safest way is the quickest way. You could use some patience—along with a little healthy fear.”
She made a face at him. “Oh, go away! You should have been a psychologist, not a marshal!”
Before Roy could do anything more than grin, he heard a horse come galloping into the yard. As it came to a stop, Jill jumped off the table where she had been sitting and hurried with Roy to the window.
The rider was Jones, getting off his horse. Even from the window Roy could see that he was furious—and that he had a saddle blanket under his arm. Obviously, he’d found something.
“Come on,” Roy said quickly, and he and Jill ran out of the house. As they came out on the front porch, Jones was coming up the front steps—and Roy knew that he had seen correctly from the window. The cowboy’s horse was dark with anger.
“Miss Hunter, we caught, Bowtie,” he said through gritted teeth. “I took the saddle off and had a look at the pad. Look what I found!”
He shoved his pad at Jill. She tried to unfold him it but her bandaged hands wouldn’t let her. With a withering look, she shoved it at Roy. “These things were your idea,” she reminded him. “You unfold it.”
Taking it from her, Roy shook it open—and his face hardened. One the inside of the blanket, gleaming sharply, were five small tacks.
Roy’s glance flashed quickly from the tacks to Jones. The cowboy was shaking, he was so angry. “Some dirty, no-good rotten jerk put those on there!” he growled. “Why, I’ve seen horses get upset with a nettle under their blankets! Someone that would stick tacks on one is no better than a murderer. You coulda been killed, Miss Hunter!”
She nodded. “I know.” Swiftly, she changed the subject. “Where’s Ford?”
“Back in the pasture with Bowtie. He’d knocked some skin off his leg, and we’re going to patch it up before we bring him in.”
“Very good,” said Jill. “Thanks, Jones. Oh, and make sure you tell everyone to check their saddle blankets before saddling.”
Jones nodded, then turned and stalked off towards the barn.
As he left, Roy picked up the saddle blanket and looked at Jill with arched eyebrows. “Convinced, Miss Hunter?”

“Convinced?”

“Convinced, Mr. Rogers.” Jill’s words were light, but her tone couldn’t hide her upset. “Someone is out to get me.”
Roy nodded. “And bound and determined to do it, too.”
She shivered a little bit. “I think I liked it better when I wasn’t convinced,” she said, offering him a wry smile. “Looks like your wish for me to get scared is going to come true.”
Roy sat down on the corner of the hitching post. “Jill, this is going too far. I know how sensitive you are when I start fishing around, but if we don’t get to the bottom of this, and soon, you aren’t going to be around to be sensitive.”
She seated herself on the edge of a flower barrel next to the hitching post. “All right,” she sighed. “I promise not to get mad. What do you want to know?”
Roy came straight to the point. “It almost would have had to been a ranch worker who set up that last little caper. Do you trust everyone on your staff?”
Jill’s chin came up. “Absolutely.”
Roy looked at her keenly. “You willing to bet your life on that?”
“Yes,” she answered firmly.
Roy sighed. “All right, then, that’s out. This whole mystery is loco anyhow. I want to ask just one question. How would anyone beside a ranch worker know which saddle blanket was yours…”
His voice trailed off. He suddenly had an idea…
Jill looked sharply at him. “What are you thinking now?” she demanded.
Roy came back to the present world and grinned at her. “Just a hunch,” he said casually.
Jill’s eyes flashed. “Roy Rogers, you tell me this instant!”
Roy put up his hand as a mock shield. “I surrender! You said you wouldn’t get mad.”
She calmed down a little, but not much. “Just get on with it and tell me what going on in your head.”
Roy’s eyes twinkled. “I said that it had to be a ranch worker who did this. What does that make you think?”
She bristled. “I just said…ohhhhhh!”
“You’ve caught on,” Roy chuckled.
“You think it was some one who used to work on the ranch!” Jill said, her voice breathless with excitement. “Before Dad died and I let all that help go!”
“Yup,” answered Roy. “Would that make sense? Do you still use the same saddle blanket?”
She nodded. “Yes!”
Roy slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “That’s the answer, then. Was there anyone you can think of who might fit the bill?”
Jill frowned. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t say anything, because it’s just a feeling I used to get, but I never liked one of the men. He was always sort of smooth and sly, and—oh, I don’t know how to say it.”
“I get it,” said Roy. “What was his name?”
“Nick Grover,” answered Jill. “Here—I’ll make you out a list of all the men I laid off.”
“That’d be great,” said Roy.
She got up to get a pencil and paper, and then paused. “Wait a minute,” she said. “There’s more than one man involved in this. Three men tried to shoot me on that meadow. Remember?”
Roy nodded. “Yes. But if we can get our hands on one, or even just watch them for a while, we should be able to crack the gang.”
“Oh, I see!” She got up and took down the pad of paper Mrs. Jeffries had on a shelf. Then she remembered her bandaged hands and looked distastefully at them.
“You’ll have to do the writing,” she said, handing the paper to him. “I sure hope I don’t have to have these lovely mitts on much longer. They’re a worse nuisance than a broken arm.”
“You can probably take some of it off tomorrow,” answered Roy, smothering a grin. “Okay. Give me the names.”

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted January 23rd, 2007 04:17 PM IP

Part 3: Ambushed!

As soon as Roy had the names of the discharged ranch hands, and all the personal information Jill could give him in them, he mounted Trigger and headed into town to try to find out something about the men.
When they reached town, Roy headed Trigger for the post office. If the men still where in the area, the post office records would show it. At the old Post Office building, he swung off Trigger, and, after looping his reins around the hitching bar, went into the office.
“Hello,” he said to the clerk on duty, a blond young woman. “I’m trying to find out if some people still live in this area. Can you help me?”
She laid down her pen, which she had been using to fill out a report. “Certainly,” she smiled. “Who are you looking for?”
Roy gave her the names one by one, and she looked them up in the files. Finally, they’d gone through every name on the list. Only two of the men, two whom Jill had thought would have trustworthy, still lived in the area. They worked on a ranch—the Lazy V—nearby.
Roy frowned. This wasn’t quite what he’d expected to find. Well, he thought with a sigh, he could check up on those two men.
“Thanks very much,” he told the clerk then, and walked back out.
He decided to go to the hotel where he’d been staying first, and get some of his clothes. Once he was there, he ran quickly up the stairs to his room, gathered up some shirts and pants, and then went back down out the door—waving as he did so to the clerk he’d talked to earlier that day.
Tying the package of clothing behind the saddle, he swung back up on Trigger and headed him towards the Lazy V ranch—where the two ranch hands worked. He knew he could call the foreman on the telephone, but he preferred to talk to him in person. It was easier to tell if someone was telling the truth when you spoke to them face-to-face.
When Roy got to the Lazy V, he found that the foreman, a friendly, middle-aged man, was quite willing to answer the questions Roy tactfully asked. Nothing came up during the discussion. The men in question had very good records as workers, and were considered completely trustworthy. One of the men came in while Roy and the foreman were talking, and answered the few questions that Roy asked. He seemed to be a very forthright, honest person.
After that, Roy sighed as he mounted Trigger and headed back towards Gabby’s ranch for the night. Today had been not very helpful in solving the mystery. He’d have to try again tomorrow. Right now, it was getting dark, and he was tired after all the riding he’d been doing.
*
Dinner with Gabby and the Sons of the Pioneers was fun. Pat, still sore about kitchen duty, was somewhat mollified by everyone—except Gabby, who gave advice—helping with the dishes.
Afterwards, Roy—planning to get up early the next morning—headed for bed. He’d decided that tomorrow he was going to go out and investigate the quarry where Jill’s father had gone. That was pretty much the only clue he had now…wait a minute!
Roy sat bolt upright in bed. He’d completely forgotten the clue from the desk clerk about the mysterious man who always appeared in Grizzly Butter—right around the time when Jill’s father would ride to the quarry. And he’d wanted to talk to Jill about that, too, to see if it reminded her of anyone.
Mentally berating himself, he picked up the alarm clock on the bedside table. 9:50. Jill was probably still awake—but after a moment of thinking Roy decided not to call. It was too late right now. He’d have to do it in the morning.
Sliding back down in bed, Roy folded his arms behind his head and thought over that clue again. There’s a pretty good chance of it panning out to something, he thought. It was simply way too much coincidence that a stranger would come to that hotel every month at the exact time when James Hunter would go off on his rides to the quarry. Also, the stranger had started coming at the same time as the trouble had started on the Triple Heart!
Suddenly, something clicked inside Roy’s mind. He sat up in bed again. If one of the persons involved in the blackmail operated out of Grizzle Butte, then why not the entire gang? That must be where the men from Jill’s ranch, if they were involved with the trouble, would be!
This clue was the best one yet! He’d call the Grizzly Butte post office first thing in the morning.
*
Sunlight was twinkling across the room when Roy woke up. He threw his arm over his eyes, and then sat up, remembering the clues of the night before. Quickly, he reached over and picked up the alarm clock.
Drat. Only six-thirty. That was too early to call the post office.
He kicked his legs over the edge of the bed, dressed, and then went into breakfast. At the table, Gabby and the Pioneers were full of the day’s activities—a roundup of a hundred or so steers they’d been planning for a while.
Then Roy saw that Gabby was growling about something and stabbing his fork into his bacon. Grinning, Roy turned to listen. Whenever Gabby got mad, things got interesting.
“I don’t know fer why that dad-blasted hoss had ter go lame on us!” Gabby growled his eyebrows bristling fiercely. “O’ all the dratted times ter pick. He’s the best cow-savvy hoss we got, an’ now he goes an’ gits lame!”
Roy pricked up his ears. “You need a cow savvy horse for today?”
Gabby whirled to include him in his tirade. “Shore do! O’ all dad-blasted—”
Roy grinned. “I’ve got a horse for you,” he said.
Gabby stopped his tirade. His eyes swiveled over to Roy. “Ye does?” he demanded.
Roy nodded. “Miss Hunter’s got some mighty nice horses out at the Triple Heart. She’d be delighted to sell you one.”
Gabby slammed his hand down on the table. “Roy, I shore got ter hand it ter ya. Ya do hev way o’ gittin’ a feller out o’ trouble.”
“Glad to help,” Roy grinned, pushing his chair away from the table. “Be right back, fellas. I’ve got to make a phone call.”
Going over to the phone in the hall, he dialed the Grizzle Butte post office.
“Hello?” came a voice after a couple of rings
Roy stood up straight. “Hello. I’m trying to find out if some people are still in this area. Can you help me?”
“Yes. What people are you looking for?”
Roy listed the names, one by one. To his excitement, there were four of Jill’s old ranch hands living in or near Grizzle Butte; Ted Miller, John Olsen, Sid Williams, and Dexter Sean.
Hurriedly, Roy jotted the names and their addresses down. Then he came to Nick Grover.
“Do you have an address for a man named Nick Grover?” he asked. He held his breath, waiting for the answer. Would there be an address?
“I’m sorry, Nick Grover does not have an address listed with us, but items do come in for him through General Delivery. Is that helpful?”
Roy grinned. “It certainly is!” he said, elation filling his voice. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Pushing the hang-up button down, Roy then dialed the Triple Heart. In a few moments, Jill herself answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi ya, Jill, it’s Roy. Got a minute?”
“Sure, Roy,” Jill answered. “What’s up?”
Roy tapped his finger on the phone table. “I’ve got a couple of really good clues,” he said. “I need your help on them. Will you be around for a while this morning?”
“Why, sure, Roy,” answered Jill, her voice a little surprised. “What did you find out?”
“I’d like to talk to you about it in person,” Roy said. “I’ll be there in about a half and hour.”
“Okay. See you then!”
Hanging up the phone, Roy told the Pioneers and Gabby where he was headed and then went out of the house immediately and saddled Trigger. Swinging up, he headed out to the Triple Heart. Underneath him, Trigger sensed him excitement and went quickly.
On the way, Roy reviewed the clues he’d picked up so far. They really were good—and if everything went right, should lead to the mystery being solved.
Now so familiar with the road to the Triple Heart, Roy knew they had just passed the halfway point when suddenly, from behind, a shot tore through the air. Bang!
Roy felt a bullet whistle past his head. What on earth—!
As Trigger leaped into a full-out gallop, Roy—crouched low on the stallion’s neck—darted a look around. Through the dust cloud Trigger was kicking up, he could see three men pursuing him on horseback.
Bang! Bang! More shots were fired. They whistled low and high, but always uncomfortably close to Roy’s head. Whatever was going on, these men meant busieness—and they knew what they were doing.
Whizzt! Yet another bullet screamed past—this time missing him by about six inches. Okay, Roy thought, time to get into this little lead-slinging contest. Whipping out his right six-shooter, he leaned back and fired.
He knew his aim had been good, but neither of the men appeared to be hit. They were about a hundred yards behind, and staying there. They couldn’t get any closer with Trigger’s speed—but a hundred yards wasn’t too far for them to put a bullet into him.
Firing again, Roy thought quickly. These were, without doubt, the same three men who had tried to kill Jill in the meadow. He wanted to find out who they were—but he had no intention of getting shot while doing it. He looked up. There was a sharp bend in the road, a half mile ahead—and s plan began to formulate in his head.
“Come in, Trigger!” he shouted, urging the stallion to top speed. Trigger complied, lowering his body and fairly flying along the road. While urging him on, Roy shot a glance back. The men were whipping up their mounts, but they weren’t coming any close. In fact, they were losing ground!

Roy urged Trigger to top speed.

Roy grinned. “Atta boy, Trigger!” he shouted, leaning low over the stallion’s neck—they were almost to the bend now. Quickly, following his plan, Roy pulled Trigger over to the side of the road, ready for the turn. Now the bend was just ahead. Gathering his powerful hindquarters up underneath him, Trigger pitvoted around the turn without even slackening speed.
The instant they’d rounded the turn, Roy threw his weight back in the saddle and asked Trigger to stop. The dust flew as Trigger obeyed—and Roy grinned as he turned him. Now the tables were turned. His plan—to surprise the men by facing them instead of running—should work!
Nerves like coiled springs, Roy held Trigger still and waited. One second, two seconds, three seconds—then the men came flying around the curve.
Bang! Roy shot his gun into the air and burst Trigger into a gallop straight at the three men. Just as Roy had hoped, the men were completely caught by surprise. They skidded to a stop, and then whirled their horses around. Now they were running away!
As Trigger pounded after them, Roy dropped his empty gun into his holster and pulled out his other one. Suddenly, his shot went completely wild as Trigger lurched underneath him. In an few seconds, the stallion had recovered his balance—but he was limping. Badly.
Instantly, Roy pulled him up and slid off. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew they were in for trouble. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that the gunmen had figured out what had happened, and were turning around again.
Bang! They were running full out towards him now, shooting as fast as they could.
Shooting back, Roy suddenly saw a hat whirl off one of the attackers’s heads. He’d almost got him—but time was up now. The men were coming too fast.
Lifting his arm to shoot again, Roy felt a sudden sting in his shoulder and knew he’d been hit. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he switched gun hands and fired again. Even as he did so he knew it was useless. He had a couple more bullets at most—and there wasn’t a chance of escape now.
Then, suddenly, something happened. Roy couldn’t see exactly in the cloud of dust—but the men were pulling up their horses, shouting and gesturing to something behind Roy. Then they wheeled around and took off down the road.
Holding his arm, Roy turned—and laughed out loud. A truck was barreling up the road at top speed—a truck he knew very well. In a second, it reached him and screeched to a stop—then the door flew open and Gabby stuck his head out.
“Roy!” he bellowed. “What in tarnation happened ter ye?!”
Without answering, Roy swung into the truck. He saw Bob Nolan in the back seat. “Bob!” he said quickly. “Stay with Trigger! He’s hurt.”
Bob nodded and jumped out of the car.
“Drive fast, Gabby!” ordered Roy. “I’ve got to catch those men!”
Understanding the urgency in Roy’s voice, Gabby nodded and pushed the accelerator to the floor of the truck. As they chased up the road, Roy watched tensely and carefully. There wasn’t a sign of any of the men, not on the road or on what he could see off the road. They had completely vanished.
After they’d driven a mile, Roy sighed. “They must have got away, Gabby,” he said. “Let’s go back. I’ve got to find out what happened to Trigger.”
Gabby stopped the truck. “Roy, look at me fer a sec,” he demanded.
Roy stared at him. “What’s up?”
“Plenty’s up!” Gabby snorted. “Ye’re spoutin’ blood like it was comin’ out o’ a fire hose. Take a look at yer arm.”
Roy’s gaze dropped, and he saw that his right sleeve was soaked with blood. “I’m all right,” Gabby,” he said. “I think it’s just a graze. I can move my hand fine.”
Gabby snorted again. “Ye’re plumb loco!” But he swung the truck around and headed back down the road.
Roy hands tensed as they approached the spot where he’d left Trigger. Would the stallion be all right?
Then, he caught sight of Bob and Trigger up ahead—and sighed in relief. Trigger was off to the side of the road, placidly eating grass. He couldn’t be too badly hurt.
Bob waved as the truck drew up along side him, and Roy and Gabby got out.
“He’s okay, Roy,” he said quickly. “I think he just tripped. He’s barely limping now.”
“Thank, Bob,” Roy said, going over to Trigger and picking up the foot. A quick examination turned out better than he could’ve hoped. There was nothing visibly wrong with the leg—and Trigger was bearing weight on it just fine.
“I think you’re right, Bob,” he said then, in relief. “You all right now, Trigger?”
Trigger picked up his head, blew his grassy nose all over Roy and nodded up and down.
Roy laughed. “He’s back to normal!”
Before he could do anything more, Bob took hold of his shoulder and turned him so he could look at Roy’s blood-covered arm.
“I don’t like the looks of that, Roy,” he said. “That might be just a graze, but you’ve lost a lot of blood.” He turned to Gabby. “Put him in the truck. We’ll put Trigger in the back and take them over to the Triple Heart.”
Roy shook his head. “I don’t want to go in there looking like this. Jill’s got enough to worry about.”
Gabby snorted. “I’ve met her. She’s not skeered o’ a little blood.”
Roy was going to protest, but Gabby unceremoniously shoved him in the truck and waited while Bob loaded Trigger. As soon as he’d finished, Bob got into the truck and reached back over the seat.
“Here, Roy,” he said, handing him a shirt. “It’s an extra I had in here. We’re pretty much the same size.”
“Thanks, Bob,” said Roy gratefully. He shrugged into the clean shirt. There, that was better.
Bob looked at him then. “What happened anyway?”
Roy told them. “I was sure glad to see you guys come up that road!” he finished.
“Did you get a good look at any of the men?” asked Bob.
Roy shook his head. “No. The only thing I could see is that two of them were heavy-set, and one was taller and thinner. They all were riding bays, two with blazes, one with no face markings.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call that no identification,” began Bob, but just then they reached the Triple Heart driveway.
Jill was getting into the ranch car when they drove in. She hopped out and came over. “Hello,” she began, then saw Roy.
“What’s wrong?” she gasped.
Roy grimaced at her as he got out of the truck. “Why do you think something’s wrong?” he parried.
She glared. “Not hard to figure something’s wrong when you’re not riding Trigger! What happened?”
“I had a little trouble,” answered Roy. “Jill, this is Gabby Whitt—”
“A little trouble!” interrupted Jill, looking closely at him. “Who’s been shooting at you?”
Roy frowned and glanced down at the clean shirt he was wearing. No blood had soaked through yet. “How’d you know someone shot at me?” he asked.
“Same way you knew it with me.” She pointed at his hat. “There’s a neat little hole through the crown.”
Roy took the hat off his head. Sure enough, there was a hole. He grinned wryly. “All right,” he said. “I give up. Someone waylaid Trigger and me on the way here.”
Bob stepped in. “He got nicked, ma’am,” he said, removing his hat. “We should take care of it.”
Jill did an abrupt right-about-face. “Hurry up and get him in the house.”
She disappeared through the front door. Roy glared at Bob and Gabby. “Would you stop making a baby out of me?”
Bob chuckled and headed him up the steps.
Jill was in the kitchen, the first aid kit spread out in front of her. She glanced up as Roy came in, followed by Gabby and Bob. “Sit down,” she said, her voice crisp. “Where’s this nick?”
Roy rolled up his sleeve, and she treated the superficial graze quickly.
“Hey,” said Roy suddenly, looking at her unbandaged hands and they did their job busily. “I said you could take off some of that bandaging today, not all of it!”
She made a face at him as she finished wrapping a bandage securely around his arm. “I didn’t,” she retorted. She held up the palms of her hands for inspection. There was a thin strip of tape across the worst of the cuts.
Roy rolled his eyes, as Jill grinned. “I’m following orders,” she said primly, putting her hands on her hips.

“I’m following orders,”

“More like finding loopholes in the orders and diving head-first through them,” Roy said dryly. Then he looked over at Gabby and Bob, signaling to him from behind Jill’s back.
“Oh yes,” he said. “In all the hurry I didn’t introduce you. Jill, this is Gabby Whittaker, and Bob Nolan.”
Jill smiled at the two men. “I believe I’ve seen you both, although not been introduced,” she said, shaking hands. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Jill,” said Roy then. “One of Gabby’s best cutting horses went lame last night, and they have a big roundup planned this morning. Do you have a horse for them?”
“Oh, certainly,” said Jill. “Please come this way.” She walked to the doorway, and then turned. “I’ll be right back, Roy. You should sit still for a while.”
Leaning back in his chair, Roy waited for Jill to come back—formulating in the meanwhile what to tell her about the clues he had picked up the day before.
After a few minutes, he heard the unmistakable backfire of Gabby’s truck. Getting up out of his chair, he headed over to the window to look out. He was just in time to see Gabby’s truck pulling out, a rangy bay horse in the back. Trigger—who’d been in the back when Roy entered the house—was now eating hay in the corral.
Roy grinned. Evidently, Gabby had liked the horse Jill had found for him. It was unusual for him to make a deal so quickly—Jill must be quite a convincing salesperson.
Just then, the door opened into the kitchen and Jill stepped quickly in, stopping as she saw Roy by the window.
“I thought I said you were supposed to sit down for a while,” she scolded.
Roy’s face was serious, but his eyes twinkled. “I did, ma’am. I followed orders,” he added, quoting her words back to her.
She caught on and flushed. “All right,” she said. “I get it.”
Frowning then, she added, “Still, you really should sit back down. I’ve taken enough first aid courses to know that you lost more blood than was good for you.”
Roy leaned against the wall. “And you should really put tape on all the cuts on your hands.” He grinned. “Tell you what. I’ll sit down, if you put tape on the rest of those cuts.”
“It’s a deal,” said Jill with a mischievous smile, reaching over and grabbing some tape.
Before she could do anything with it Roy took it away from her. “Here, let me do that.”
She perched on the edge of the table while Roy worked. “Oh, by the way,” she said suddenly, “Did you tell someone to give me a message that you weren’t coming over here, and that I should go into town to meet you?”
Roy looked up at her quickly. “No,” he answered. “Why?”
Her eyes snapped. “I thought so!” she exclaimed. “About five minutes after you called me, saying you were coming out, I got another call. A man on the other line said, ‘Rogers said to tell you something came up, and he can’t make it out to your ranch. He wants you to come on into town.”
Roy was at full attention. “That sure wasn’t me!” he exclaimed. “I think I know why it was placed though. Why didn’t you go on in?”
She sat up straight. “I thought there was something funny about it,” she said. “He called you ‘Rogers’, and I knew that your friends call you Roy. I wasn’t sure what to do, though, so after a few minutes, I decided to go on in.”
Roy let out his breath in a long whistle. “I sure am glad you were suspicious for once,” he said. “That call was a plant. Whoever’s managing this whole thing decided to get both you and me out of the way at the same time. If you had left when that man had told you to, we’d probably both have been goners.”
For the first time, in all the times she’d nearly been killed, Jill’s face paled. Sliding down from the table without a word, she went over to the window. For a moment, she stood there, her hands clenched. Then she spun around—her face set.
“I’ve made up my mind, Roy,” she said. “You need to get off this case. It’s one thing having someone out for me, but now they’re trying to get you, too. And they’ll do the same for anyone else. You’ve got to get off the case now, before you get killed.”
Roy got up out of his chair. “Well, now, wait a minute,” he said, “I never had too much of a problem taking care of myself. I don’t think you have to get all worried about this.”
She glared at him. “I am worried!” she said, her voice tense. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you, or someone else, while they were trying to get me out of trouble.”
Roy didn’t say anything for a moment—then he looked up. “What if I refuse to get off the case?” he said quietly.
She looked at him for a second, almost as if she didn’t understand his words. “Why—why—” she faltered.
Roy grinned wryly. “I’m not so easy to get rid of,” he said. “Besides, what are you going to do if I clear out? Those men will eventually get what they’re after.”
She snapped straight up. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’re off the case.” Before she could say anything more her voice broke and she whirled back to the window, trying to hide her emotion.
After a moment, Roy came over and tapped her on the shoulder. “Listen, Jill,” he said softly, “There’s a lot more at stake here that just your life—or my life. Something’s happening on this ranch that needs to be stopped. If these men, whoever they are, get off scot-free, they’ll just go on trying to get away with more and more of the same thing. Making some sort of sacrifice of yourself now will only be giving them exactly what they want.”
She turned around—her eyes dark with distress. “But what are we going to do?” she asked.
“I’ve got a couple of good clues,” Roy answered. “Sit down and I’ll tell you them.”
Jill obeyed, and Roy told what he’d discovered, about the men being based in Grizzly Butte. Then he described the man that the hotel clerk had told him about.
“Tall, with a mustache and a deep growly voice. Always wore a black cowboy hat, and had very green eyes.” He looked at Jill. “Does that ring any sort of a bell?”
She thought for a second. “No,” she said finally. “The only person I know with green eyes besides myself is—well, never mind.”
Roy pounced on her words. “Don’t stop there!” he said. “Let’s not even over look a possible clue. Who do you know who has green eyes?”
“The trustee from my old school,” she answered. “My guardian, you remember. Mr. Carson.” She looked over at Roy. “But he doesn’t have a mustache, and he couldn’t possibly be involved in this!”
Roy didn’t answer. Phrases, things that Jill had said, were running through his head. “My guardian offered to buy the ranch. Mr. Carson was appointed my guardian.” Then, something she had said that first night. “I always thought that was strange…”
“Jill!” he said, sitting up straight and looked over at her. “You told me once that you thought it was strange that Mr. Carson was appointed your guardian. Why did you say that?”
She looked surprised. “Well,” she answered, “I guess it was because I’d always figured that, if anything ever happened to Dad, he’d appoint the Macklins as my guardian. They’d do it anyway, informally. And I don’t really like Mr. Carson. But, Roy, that doesn’t mean anything. And Mr. Carson simply couldn’t be in on this. Why—”
Roy wasn’t listening again. He was remembering something else…something Jill had told him. That Mr. Carson had been at the ranch the night before James Hunter died of a heart attack, an attack brought on by poison.
Things were starting to fall into place. But how to get proof? And how could he convince Jill of the truth without disclosing the secret of her father’s death? Then, he had an idea.
“Look, Jill,” he said quickly. “I think I might have this figured out. But I can’t tell you everything right now. Will you just play along with me, until I can tell you everything?”
She looked levelly at him, and Roy held his breath. If she kicked up a fuss now, everything might be ruined.
Then she grinned. “On one condition,” she said. “I want to go along with what ever you are going to do.”
Roy let out his breath with a “Whoosh!” He pretended to wipe sweat off his forehead. “Thought sure you were going to demand a long explanation. Of course you’re coming. You’re an important part.”
“What are we waiting for then,” she demanded, heading for the door. “Let’s go!”
Roy chuckled as he followed after her. “It sure is a good thing you weren’t born a hundred years ago,” he teased.
She threw him a sharp look over her shoulder. “Why?”
“Because if you’d been a pioneer, and gotten caught in a siege with the Indians, you’d never have lasted it out. I never saw anyone so impatient.”
Jill slid to a stop. With exaggerated dignity, she turned to face him. “I’ll have you know that I am a very patient person,” she said crisply.
Roy held in a chuckle. He put his hands on his hips and nodded, his eyes dancing with hidden laughter.
She squared her shoulders. “I am,” she insisted. “How else would I train the horses I train?”
Roy sobered. “That’s true,” he said. “But it would be interesting if you could apply some of that patience to other things, as well.”
She turned around and walked airily out the door. “Maybe I will,” she said. Her voice was serious, but carried laughter. “I’ll try it.”
“Wait a minute, Jill,” said Roy, reaching out and stopping her. “There are a couple things involved in this plan that you’d better know about now. First of all, I’m going to need to get your men involved in this.”
She stared at him. “Are they going to be doing something dangerous?” she asked quickly.
Roy shook his head. Starting to walk again, he said to Jill, “Walk slowly. Act like I’m not saying anything important.”
She obeyed. “You don’t think someone’s spying on us here, do you?” she hissed.
Roy jolted her with his elbow. “Don’t whisper! I said act normal. I don’t know if someone’s spying on us. But it seems that whoever these men are, they know more than they should. I’m just playing it careful.”
“I see,” she said in a normal voice. “But what do you want my men to do?”
They’d reached the barn now. Opening the door for Jill, Roy followed after her and then shut it behind them both.
“All right,” he said. “I’m going to tell you what we’re doing, just briefly. I think that there might very well be a clue in that cave in the quarry. I want to go check it out, but I don’t want to get ambushed while doing it.”
“Well, then you’d better stay away from the quarry,” Jill informed him. “I couldn’t think of a better place for an ambush.”
Roy grinned. “That’s where your men come in,” he said. “You and I are going to ride off, not towards the quarry, but at a right angle to it. You’ll tell your men to follow us at a big distance. If anyone is following us, they’ll notify us by a shot. If no one follows us to the quarry, they’ll turn around and go home. Either way, we should find out something. Is that all right?”
Jill nodded. “It doesn’t seem as if they could get hurt that way,” she said. “Should I tell them now?”
Roy looked at his watch. “Well, wait till they’ve had lunch. If we head out without eating it’s going to look suspicious. I’m hoping it’ll look like we’re just doing some ranch-work this way.”
“Okay, Sherlock,” said Jill. “Let’s go eat, then.” As she headed to the barn door, she added over her shoulder, “Where’d you learn to figure things out like that?”
Roy shrugged. “Just experience, I guess. Anyway, it wasn’t really anything to figure out.”

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted January 23rd, 2007 04:19 PM IP

Part 4: Danger in the Quarry

As soon as lunch was over, Jill and Roy headed out to the bunkhouse, where the ranch’s four cowboys were finishing lunch.
As Jill stepped through the door, the laughing and joking inside the room stopped instantly, the men all giving her their attention at once. Roy stood off to the side as she went to the head of the table.
“Boys,” she said. “As you all know, there’s been trouble here for a while. Marshal Rogers thinks he has a plan to figure something out.”
Watching Jill as she spoke, Roy noticed the attention the men were giving her. Evidently, they respected her as a boss. Glancing keenly at each of their faces, he was satisfied that Jill’s assurance that none of them were in on the scheme to wreck the ranch was correct. It was quickly obvious that Jones and Ford had told the other men about the tacks in Jill’s saddle blanket, for when she mentioned the trouble, their faces darkened.
“Just let us at that dirty rat who stuck those tacks in the blanket,” growled one.
Jill smiled. “I’ll do that,” she said, and then grew serious again. “I can’t explain anything right now, but I need you to do something.” Quickly, she outlined what Roy had told her to tell the men. As soon as she had finishes, they all willingly agreed.
“Thank you,” said Jill in closing. “With your help, I know we’ll win!”
The men cheered—and Roy saw from Jill’s shaky smile that she was close to breaking down. Coming over to her side, he spoke to her and the men. “We’d better get going,” he smiled. “We wouldn’t want anyone to wait too long for their rightful deserts!”
The men laughed. Giving Roy a grateful look, Jill slipped down from the front of the room and headed quickly out of the bunkhouse. The men followed after to saddle their mounts.
Going out of the bunkhouse along with them, Roy stopped at the corral gate, where the waiting Trigger greeted him with a loud whinny.
“Easy boy,” chuckled Roy. “Thought I’d abandoned you, huh? Let’s take a look at your leg.”
Trigger held it up for him. “Why, thank you,” said Roy, examining it carefully. There wasn’t a sign of any damage. “Guess you’re all right boy,” he said, straightening up and giving Trigger a pat. “That’s good!”
He saddled the stallion quickly, and then looked around for Jill. In a second, he sw her coming out of the pasture leading a mare Roy recognized as Darcy.
“She’s good as new,” called Jill, as she reached him. “I want to take her today.”
Roy grinned, as Trigger sniffed noses with the dainty little mare. “I don’t think Trigger will mind!”
Swinging up on their horses, they headed out then. Jill had told Roy where the quarry was, and he set their course for a right angle to it—planning by this to throw off anyone who might possibly be watching them.
They loped along, trying to look like they were out for a pleasure ride—but both of them listening and watching intently. Finally, after they’d gone almost two miles without seeing or hearing a thing, Roy pulled up.
“We must have thrown them off our track,” he said “There’s no one following us. Let’s head for the quarry.”
It took them another ten or so minutes to reach it, and when they got there Roy saw that the lip of the steep quarry was shielded by a thick screen of sagebrush. After riding through the sagebrush, the quarry was clearly visible, dropping off into space in front of him. The edge where Trigger had halted was very steep, almost perpendicular. Opposite him, he could see that there was a gentler incline.
“What now?” asked Jill.
Roy thought for a second. The cave Jill had spoken of should be directly beneath him. That was what he wanted to investigate. There might be some clue down there, a clue he needed for proof that his suspicions were right.
“I’m going to go down there,” he said, swinging off Trigger. He dropped the reins to ground tie him. “You’d better stay up here with the horses.”

“You’d better stay here.”

She dropped Darcy’s reins. “I’m coming down,” she said firmly. “You said that I was going with.”
Roy began to protest, but Jill quickly held up her hand. “Besides,” she said, a honey sweet voice, “I’m a perfect target up here. You wouldn’t want anything to happen when you couldn’t be around to protect me, would you?”
Roy knew darn well that her sudden attack of helpless femininity was an act, but he didn’t have time to argue—besides, she did have a point about being a good target up there. With a sigh, he capitulated. “All right. Come on.”
She followed close after him as he began to slide down. The descent was tricky—small rocks and sand slid out from under their feet, and more than once, they had to leap from one ledge to another.
Why would anyone use this place for a meeting site? Roy thought. It’s dangerous and hard-to-get-to. Why not use some other place?
Finally they reached the bottom, and sure enough, just as Jill had described, directly underneath the cliff was a shallow cave. Jumping down the last foot of cliff, Jill headed for it, but Roy grabbed her arm.
“Wait,” he said, pulling out one of his guns and dropping down to his knees. “Get down.”
Looking a little surprised, Jill nevertheless got down and they crawled towards the entrance. Once they reached it, Roy cautiously poked his head in.
There was no one inside the cave—and a quick glance around it showed nothing to hide behind.
Roy stood up, and Jill scrambled up beside him. “What was that all about?” she asked. “Did you hear something?”
Roy shook his head. “Just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anyone in here,” he answered. “Being careful is a smart thing for anyone to do, especially when you’re investigating a place where murderers might be hiding.”
He tossed her a grin over his shoulder as he went in through the entrance. The light shining in through it showed that the cave was mostly empty—just a few packing boxes up-ended in it, obviously for seats. That was all.
Coming over, Jill stood besides him without saying anything. Roy glanced at her, and saw her eyes were shadowy with memories. She must be thinking of what had happened her.
Not sure of where else to look for a clue, Roy went over to the packing boxes. They were ordinary ones—about two feet across and made of slats that were about three inches wide, with gaps in between. There was nothing around them or by them—nothing at all.
Then Roy picked up on of the boxes to look underneath—and a slight rustling sound came inside. Instantly hearing it, Roy quickly shook the box again—more rustles! There was definitely something inside!
Quickly, he tried to slide his fingers through the slats, but his hand didn’t fit.
“What is it?” asked Jill suddenly, coming next to him.
“I heard something rustling in here,” Roy. “It might be some sort of clue—but I can’t seem to get at it.”
“Well, my fingers are smaller than yours,” said Jill. “Let me try!”
Roy handed the box to her. “Might be a mouse,” he warned teasingly.
“So what?” she retorted. “Mice are cute.”
Grinning, Roy watched closely as her long slender fingers slid into the packing box. She closed her eyes, concentrating on making her fingers find whatever it was that rustled.
Then her eyes popped open. “I got it!” she crowed. Her fingers came out of the box, clutching a scrap of paper.
Taking it, Roy ran—Jill right beside him—closer to the entrance of the cave. They needed light to see what the paper was. Once they reached a brightly-lit side, he spread the paper out on a flat rock and took a good look.
It was a small piece of letter—the handwritten, closely-spaced lines on it told that. Quickly, he deciphered the words and read them out loud.
“Be there myself…make sure you are not…give money…unter.”
Jill, who was hanging over his shoulder, reading it, suddenly gasped.
“What’s wrong?” demanded Roy, whirling around.
She put a hand on the rocky wall, and leaned against it. “Oh, Roy,” she said shakily. “That’s Mr. Carson’s handwriting! You were right!”
Roy stood still a second, processing this information. Carson must be the man in charge of the gang staging the attacks on the Hunter ranch! But why?
“Okay, snoopers,” came a voice from the entrance of the cave. “Put them up.”
Jill’s eye flashed to the entrance and she gasped. “Nick Grover!”
Roy’s hands instinctively flew to his guns—but before he could even get a hold of them a bullet flattened into the wall next to him.
“Next time I won’t miss,” snapped the voice. “Turn around, slowly.”
Roy obeyed. In the doorway stood three men, all with guns in their hands.
“Back up, you two” ordered the man who had been speaking, the one who Jill had recognized as Nick Grover. Roy and Jill obeyed, backing further into the cave—Roy’s eyes fixed on Grover. The man was huge, over six feet tall and heavily built. He didn’t exactly look easy to beat up.
Once they had reached the far wall, Grover gestured his gun at Jill. “Take his guns out of their holsters, sweetie, and give them to me.”
Roy’s gaze flicked to Jill—standing about three feet away from him. She was sagging against the cave wall, her body trembling, her eyes wide with fear. For a spilt second, Roy was surprised. Somehow, he had not expected her to be frightened like that.
As Grover gave his command, Jill didn’t move—her white face looked like she might be about to faint.
“Now!” barked Grover. “Or I’ll shoot.”
Roy’s fists clenched. Couldn’t the man see how scared she was? “Leave her out of this, Grover,” he said levelly.
Grover looked at him. “Shut up!”
Jill turned and on trembling legs came over to Roy—who suddenly couldn’t believe his eyes. As soon as she’d turned her back to the men in the cave entrance, entrance, her wild-eyed look of fright vanished.
In a fraction of a second Roy realized she’d been faking. She had something up her sleeve…
He watched her closely as, moving slowly, pretending to be shaking with fear, she reached for Roy’s guns. Her eyes fixed on his, her mouth formed the words, “Be ready.”
Then her hands closed around the handles of Roy’s guns. She wobbled, made a sobbing noise, and then whirled around.
Bang! Bang! With a blast of the twin six-shooters, she nicked the rocks over the men’s heads. “Drop your guns!” she ordered, her voice firm and clear.
The men’s eyes popped open and their guns clattered to the floor. Holding one gun steady on them, Jill reached the other back towards Roy.
He took it and stepped up in front of Jill. “Okay,” he said coldly to the three men. “I’m a deputy marshal, and you’re under arrest. Turn around.”
Looking scared, the two men in the back obeyed. Grover hesitated for an instant, looking at Jill with a look of pure hatred.
“Turn around!”
Grover did so.
“Good work, Jill,” said Roy, taking his eyes off the men for a second to smile at her. “Let’s tie them up with their bandannas and belts.”
“All right.” Going forwards, Jill took the bandanna off the first man.
“This is Dexter Sean,” she told Roy as she tied his hands together with it. “You were right—he used to work on the ranch.”
The man growled something unintelligible. “Quiet,” Roy told him sternly. The man shut up.
“Who’s the other fellow?” Roy asked, as Jill gave a final tightening jerk to Sean’s bonds and turned to the other man.
“He’s Sid Williams,” she answered, tying him up as well. “Another worker.”
Then she came to Grover, and tried to take his bandanna off his neck. He was so tall she had to stand on tiptoe, and as she did so he glared down at her.
Roy watched carefully. He didn’t like the way Grover’s hand kept fiddling around his pocket. Jill was too exposed.
“You hold the gun on him, Jill,” he said, deciding to stop this right now. “I’ll tie him up.”
Jill turned around to face Roy. For one instant, she blocked his line of fire—and at that moment, Grover acted. With a shove of his huge hands, he slammed Jill into Roy. Taken off guard as she crashed into him, Roy fell to the floor of the cave with Jill on top.
As he did so, Roy’s head hit a rock and for a moment his vision blurred. Before he could recover or even move, Grover was on top of him. Reaching down with one hand, he jerked Roy to his feet.
“Let him go!” shouted Jill, grabbing for Grover’s ankles. With a growl of rage, he brought his huge foot and back and kicked Jill aside.
With a tiny cry, she flew across the cave and landed in a limp little heap on the other side.
The sight made Roy absolutely furious. With a sudden wrenching twist, he jerked himself out of Grover’s grasp and sent as hard a punch as he could slamming into the man. For a moment, the blow staggered the big man—but only for a moment. Then he jumped at Roy with a bellow of fury.
Instantly Roy started fighting, with as much skill as he could. This fight was so uneven—the only way to win it was to outmaneuver the clumsier Grover. But—Roy could feel himself weakening. He’d lost too much blood earlier in the day, when he’d been shot. It was taking its toll on his strength—but he had no choice but to keep fighting!
Then Grover sent a huge fist slamming straight past Roy’s guard—crushing him into the wall. For a moment, Roy couldn’t move—the breath was completely knocked out of him.
Grover snarled in satisfaction. Whipping a switchblade out of his pocket, he flicked it open.
Roy caught the gleam of steel and forced a breath into his lungs. He struggled to his feet—but it was too late. Grover lunged for him.
Just as the huge man was about to make contact, he stopped abruptly. His head flew back with a jerk and the switchblade flew out of his hands.
Roy had no idea what had happened—but he didn’t care just then. He’d gotten the second he needed and he jumped out of the way.
Then he saw what had happened. Jill had jumped Grover! She’d grabbed his hair and pulled him backwards—but now, he’d fallen on top of her. His face purpling with anger, he turned around to get at Jill.
Roy moved lightening. Grabbing Grover’s bandanna, he braced his feet and jerked the man’s head back as hard as he could. The skillful twisted move yanked Grover completely off Jill—he flew backwards into the rocky wall and lay still.
Assured that Grover was out of commission for the time being, Roy hurriedly bent over Jill, who was getting shakily to her feet.
“Ooh,” she groaned, “Next time I do that, I’m going to get out of the way.”
“Are you all right?” panted Roy, helping her to her feet.
She nodded. “Besides the fact that I’m going to be black and blue all over tomorrow, I’m fine. What about you?” she asked, looking at him worriedly. “Are you all right?”
Roy nodded. “I’m a little winded, though,” he admitted. Glancing quickly around the room, he assured himself that Grover was still knocked out and his two accomplicies were tightly bound.
“Looks like everyone’s out of commission now,” he said, turning back to Jill.
“Not quite everyone,” said a cold, quiet voice. “Reach for the ceiling, Rogers.”
Roy and Jill spun around in shock to see a tall, thin man standing in the entrance to the cave, a gun leveled in his hand.
“Mr. Carter!” gasped Jill.
The man smiled sardonically. “How observant of you, Jill,” he said, stripping off his false mustache. “It’s really a pity your father wasn’t as observant as you.”
Jill’s face flushed, and her fists clenched. “What did you do to my father?”
Roy saw she was about to fling herself at Carter—and he knew what the man would do if she did. Without waiting an instant, he grabbed Jill’s arm. “Cool it,” he hissed into her ear. “He’ll shoot you!”
Carter smiled again. “Exactly,” he said coldly. “But I really don’t see why you stopped her, Rogers. It’ll all be the same in the end anyway.”
Roy kept a tight grip on Jill’s arm and tried to think. This did not look good…
Before he could come up with a plan, Carter—still holding the gun—motioned to him and Jill. “Come on out into the open,” the man said sardonically.
Roy obeyed, keeping himself between Carter and Jill and still holding onto Jill’s arm. He could feel how her muscles kept tensing under his fingers, and knew that their only chance of survival was to play along with Carter—till he made a mistake. If Jill could just keep from losing her temper…
Once they’d gotten out of the cave, Roy paused, waiting to see what Carter would do.
Carter knew what he was doing and motioned them farther out into the quarry. “Keep going…”
When they were about a hundred feet from him, he gestured to them to stop. “All right,” he said. “Rogers, get away from Jill.”
His eyes sparking with anger, Roy hesitated.
Carter flicked the trigger, and a bullet plowed the ground in front of them. “I meant it,” he said, his voice still without expression.
Knowing he had no choice, Roy obeyed, watching Carter like a hawk for the slightest chance to do something. When he was about a hundred feet from Jill, Carter motioned him to stop—then turned slightly to Jill.
“You’d like to know what I did with your father?” he asked, with deferential and mocking courtesy. “Very well. I’ll tell you. After I’ve told you, you’ll go back up to the top of the quarry and go over the edge. So it doesn’t really matter.”
As Carter spoke, Roy’s ears pricked open. That last thing Carter had said had given him an idea. If Carter wasn’t going to shoot them but force them over the edge of the quarry, they had a fighting chance—now, if only Jill had realized this as well!
He glanced quickly over at her, trying to catch her eyes—but she was fixated on Carter, who was continuing to speak.
“First of all,” said the man, his voice laced with smugness, “I had discovered that an extremely rare plant grew on your ranch. From it could be made the most deadly poison, a poison that caused a heart attack. Of course, this would be extremely valuable for—ahem!—influential people I had contacts with. Knowing this, I disguised myself and went to your father, proposing to buy the ranch. He would not sell. I waited. Finally, I got my chance. I tricked your father into thinking he had scared a man so bad that he had fallen off this cliff. But the man was really already dead. Once your father thought that he was responsible for the man’s accidental death, the rest was easy. I blackmailed him by telling him what I had seen. I made huge amounts of money. But then your father grew foolishly impatient. He told me that he would no longer pay the money, that he was going to tell the authorities what had happened. I warned him, but it did no good. Then, I put poison in the food in the fridge, so that his death would look like a heart attack the next day.”
Roy saw Jill’s face go white with shock, as she heard of her father’s true death for the first time. His jaw clenched. She shouldn’t have heard it this way. This man was a monster!
He took a step forward towards Carter—then controlled himself with an effort. Now was not yet the time.
Slowly, Jill’s face returned to its normal color, and her look of sick horror was replaced by sheer fury. She clenched her fists.
Desperately, Roy tried to get her attention. She was so completely overwhelmed that he wasn’t sure what she going to do. If she tried to attack Carter, he’d shoot her down before she could even move.
Then Carter himself unwittingly came to the rescue. “That is all,” he said crisply. “Now turn around and go up the cliff. I should like your deaths to look as natural as possible.”
For a second, Jill stood still—and then Roy finally caught her gaze. He nodded his head slightly, praying she would understand that he wanted her to obey.
For a moment, he could see a question in her eyes—then it was replaced by cool understanding. Giving him the tiniest of nods to show she’d understood that he had a plan, she turned and began to climb back up the cliff.
Turning himself, Roy followed just behind, with Carter behind both of them. On up the cliff they went. Roy knew exactly what he planned to do—but he was waiting for just the right time.
Then, halfway up the cliff, Roy saw and skirted a big bed of scree and fist-sized rocks. The instant he was past them he made his move.
Pretending to slip, he fell heavily—his boot purposely coming into crashing contact with a big boulder on the top of the scree pile. Just as he’d planned, it rolled into the scree—and then suddenly the whole side of the quarry seemed to be cascading down, down, down!
As the dust cloud of the racing rocks grew behind him, Roy turned to Jill and shoved her down on her stomach.
“Look out!” he shouted over the roar of the rockslide. “I don’t know whether I got Carter with that avalanche.”
She wriggled to a crouching position. “It doesn’t matter,” she said fiercely. “He’ll get the surprise of his life if you didn’t!”
Roy heard her words in surprise, but didn’t have a chance to ask what she meant. Now the rumble had died down, and he could hear the last rocks rolling slowly down. His eyes searched through the dust cloud, looking for Carter.
Seemingly taking hours, the dust slowly, the dust settled. After a few minutes, Roy—with Jill right next to him—could see down to the bottom of the quarry. At first, Carter was nowhere in sight—then—
“There he is!” hissed Jill suddenly, and gestured to the left. Instantly, Roy saw what she had seen—Carter climbing back up the slope! Obviously, the avalanche had knocked him down the cliff, but not hit him seriously—or gotten rid of his gun.
Knowing that they had to get out of there instantly, Roy glanced over at Jill, about to tell her to run for the top of the cliff. When he saw her, he stared for a second—then his eyebrows raised and a delighted smile began to spread over his face.
Jill was seated on the ground, her lap full of golf ball-sized rocks. One of them she clutched in her hand—and her face wore the same expression Roy remembered from back in the meadow.
“Don’t move!” she shouted to Carter. “If you do I’ll throw!”
“Better listen to her,” Roy called down, with a grin. “I think she means what she says.”
Carter didn’t take his advice. Jill’s shout had showed him where they were, and now he stood up and leveled his gun. But before he could pull the trigger—
“Here it comes!” yelled Jill, and threw.
The rock flew straight towards Carter. CLUNK! It hit him in the head. The gun dropped from his fingers and he sank to the ground.
“Yes!” shouted Roy in exaltation. “Good work—”
Bang!
A bullet whistled about an inch from his head. Without waiting to figure out where the bullet had come from, Roy grabbed Jill’s arm and they hit the ground—only then did Roy look up.
The sight didn’t inspire him with confidence. The three thugs who’d been in the cave were coming out. All of them had guns. Grover must have woken up and untied his friends.
Without thinking, Roy’s hand flew towards his holsters. Roy’s hands flew towards his holsters. Empty space met his grasp—and he remembered. His guns were still on the floor of the cave.
Bang!
The thugs had seen them—that last bullet had been close!
Bang! Another bullet whizzed—but this time, Jill suddenly made a little cry and jerked.
Roy twisted quickly around to face her. “Did you get hit?”

“Did you get hit?”

“Just a nick,” she muttered. “In my leg. Should we start to climb?”
Roy shook his head. “No. We’d be easy targets on the canyon wall.”
Bang!
Jill flattened herself against the dirt. “Seems like we’re easy targets here!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! The men, realizing that their targets were unarmed, were starting to come closer.
A thought flew through Roy’s mind. Their only chance was if somehow the gunmen’s attention could be diverted long enough for them to escape to cover…
Then he had an idea—if only it would work! Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted straight ahead so his voice echoed from the other side of the quarry. “Trigger!” he shouted. “Trigger!”
From up above a shrill whinny answered him—then he heard the sound of pounding feet. Moving closer to Jill, he said quickly, “Watch that slide opposite us—and just follow my lead.” Turning his head slightly, he sent her a fleeting grin. “Some more of that rock throwing might come in handy. Just hold on a second.”
“I’m being patient,” she said through her teeth.
Then Roy’s attention was caught by a motion on the opposite side of the quarry. Was it—yes it was! Dust swirling around him, Trigger was plunging down the slide, the bay form of Jill’s mare right behind him.
“Atta boy, Trigger!” Roy shouted.
Jill caught his plan and her voice was full of excitement. “Come on, Darcy!” she screamed.
Down the draw the horses thundered. As the sound of their hooves reached the gun men on the ground, they looked behind them in shock. Seeing what appeared to be two riders coming down the slide into the canyon, they began to shoot in that direction.
Roy jumped up. “Stay here, Jill!” he ordered, and then raced down the cliff towards the men.
He ran as fast as he could, down the wall. This was the only chance—to get the jump on them while they were distracted. He was almost there…
Then one of the three men—Roy saw it was Sid Williams—turned around and saw him. With a yell, the man leveled his gun.
Roy gathered himself up, preparing to throw himself down—but before he could—
CLUNK! A rock hit Williams in his head and he dropped in his tracks.
A grin played around Roy’s mouth as he continued on down the cliff. Jill was at it again!
He was almost to the men now—then, just as he reached them, they suddenly realized that the two horses that had now reached the bottom of the slide were riderless. They turned.
Without even waiting a second, Roy jumped into both of them, wrapping his arms around them and pulling the to the ground. This was it. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to win this fight, not against Grover and another man. He just hoped Jill would get out of there now.
Then all thoughts flew out of his mind as he started fighting for his life. Ducking a punch from Grover, Roy smashed the man in the jaw.
It was like sticking a pin into a elephant. With a bellow of rage at the pain of the blow, Grover swung his fist like a sledgehammer. Roy slid underneath it, just in the nick of time.
Then, suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he saw the other man—Dexter Sean— coming up behind him, gun leveled.
Roy sidestepped so that he was facing the cliff where Jill was. Grover approached on one side, and Dexter on the next. He was trapped in between.
Then he saw movement in front of him. Jill! She’d come down the cliff and was standing not fifty feet away. “Duck, Roy!” she yelled, and pulled back her arm.
Roy hit the ground.
CLUNK! The gunman crumpled next to him, and shouting his thanks to Jill, Roy jumped to his feet.
Grover, now completely mad with rage, came towards him with a roar, but Roy had him figured out now. Coolly, he stood where he was as the man charged—then at the last second jumped aside and stuck out his foot.
Just as he’d known, the clumsy Grover couldn’t get out of the way, and went flying into a heap as he tripped over Roy’s boot. He’d hardly landed when Roy was on top of him, holding his arms tightly behind his back.
Jill approached, another rock in her hand. “Want me to give it to him, Roy?” she asked.
Roy grinned. “I think I got him for now. Hand me that gun, would you?”
Jill bent down to pick up Dexter’s dropped gun, but just then with a wild leap, Grover twisted to his feet. He whirled on Roy.
Roy knew Jill couldn’t shoot or throw—he was in the way. It was up to him now. Drawing on every reserve of strength he had, he threw his whole weight into a punch squarely at Grover’s jaw.
The punch connected with sickening force. For an instant, Grover swayed on his feet. Almost in slow motion, his fists dropped, and he sank down, in a heap.
As he slid to the ground, Roy glanced at Jill.
“Oh boy,” she said, looking around at the crumpled bodies. “Oh Roy, they—they aren’t dead, are they?”
Roy grinned tiredly. “Nope,” he said. “But they’re going to have one heck of a headache!”
Suddenly, Jill’s legs buckled and she sat down hard. Roy came over quickly. “Let me see that leg of yours,” he said.
“Oh, that’s all right,” began Jill. “It’s just that I can’t believe—”
She stopped then, and snapped to attention. “Listen!”
Roy listened—and heard the sound of hoofbeats, pounding towards them from up above the quarry rim.
“Who could that be?” asked Jill, holding her breath.
“I don’t know,” said Roy grimly, scooping up the gun lying on the ground in front of him. “But I don’t want to find out in the open like this!” He grabbed her under her arm. “Can you walk?”
She struggled free of his grasp. “I’m fine! You’ve got enough to worry about, without me. Where should we go?”
Roy looked around quickly. “The cave! It’s the most sheltered place if the riders are in with the gang.”
Hurrying to the cave, they ducked into the entrance and turned to listen. Above them, they could hear that the riders had come to the edge of the quarry, left their horses—and were now sliding down the walls.
Roy’s hand tightened on the barrel of his gun, as someone dropped down just out of view.
“Whew!” whistled a voice—a voice Roy knew very well. “What the blazez happened here? Looks like a tornado struck!”
“Pat!” exclaimed Roy, coming out of the cave.
Pat jumped, his eyes popping open as he spun around. “Heck, Roy, you scared me!”
Roy slapped him on the back. “Is it ever good to see you!” he exclaimed, looking around. All of Jill’s men were coming down the quarry, followed by Gabby and the rest of the Sons of the Pioneers.
“Where did you fellas come from?” asked Roy.
Bob slid down the slope. “I called the Triple Heart looking for you, Roy, and they said you were heading out on some sort of mission. We knew what that meant and didn’t wait around.”
Walking up to Roy, he pushing him into a seated position and frowned sternly down at him. “Don’t you know you got hurt before?”
“I’m fine,” protested Roy. Quickly, he turned to Jill, who was leaning in weak relief against the cliff wall close by. “She got winged, though.”
“I’m fine,” said Jill, unconsciously echoing Roy’s words.
Ignoring her—and Bob—Roy got up. Coming over, he rolled up her pants leg and examined her. To his relief, he saw she had a superficial gouge in her calf, but nothing else.
Wrapping his bandanna around her leg, Roy told her, “We’ll get you home and treat that properly. Sure you’re okay otherwise?”
She smiled, a little shakily. “Yes.”
“Well, it looks like we weren’t needed,” said Bob, surveying the four men’s crumpled bodies. “How did you manage this?”
“Yikes!” came a sudden squawk from Pat, who was standing gazing down at Carter. His eyes big as saucers, he sidestepped quickly over to Roy. “Ya—ya aren’t mad at me, are ya?” he asked.
“Course not, Pat,” answered Roy in surprise. “What’s up?”
Pat looked over his shoulder at Carter and shuddered. “If you can make that big of a bruise when ya punch somebody—ooh! I’m never gonna get into a fight with you!”
Completely bewildered as to what Pat was talking about, Roy frowned. Next to him, Bob frowned as well and went over to look at Carter.
“Whoee!” he whistled after a moment. “Pat was right, Roy. What did you do to this guy? He’s got a bump on his head that’s bigger than a bowling ball.”
Roy laughed outright, suddenly realizing what Pat had referred to. “That wasn’t me,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “That’s Jill. She’s the best rock thrower around, and I guess these men are going to remember that for a while!”
The Pioneers instantly demanded to know what he was talking about, and for about ten minutes, there were lots of loud explanations. Then, wobbling a bit, Jill stood up. Her foreman, Jones, grabbed her arm, signaling for the discussion to end. “Come on, men, let’s get everyone back to the ranch.”
Roy rose to take Jill’s other arm—but suddenly behind him he felt a snuffle, and there was Trigger, with Darcy behind him.
The little bay mare trotted over to Jill—who threw her arms around her, and Trigger rubbed his head against Roy’s arm, happy to be back together again.
Smiling, Roy rubbed Trigger’s neck. “You sure helped us before, boy,” he said softly. Then, he turned to Jill. “Come on,” he offered. “I’ll take you back behind me. You shouldn’t try to ride with that leg.”
Jill opened her mouth to protest, and then shut it again. “Okay,” she said, a sudden smile breaking out on her face. “I guess I won’t mind a little babying for a while.”
Roy helped her up behind him, and then turned to the other men, who were loading the groggy crooks onto the horses. “Bring ‘em to the ranch, and we’ll get the sheriff out there to take over from there,” he directed.
Gabby looked up from loading the very groggy Carter onto his horse. “Don’t ye worry,” he said. “If any o’ them black-hearted skunk’s make a move, I’ll grab fer my .45 an’—”
“Better grab for a rock,” interrupted Roy with a grin. “He’d likely pay more attention to that!”
*
The next day, the men were quizzed by the sheriff and Roy. Faced by the solid proof Roy had to offer—not to mention the information Carter had smugly given Roy— they all gave full confessions.
Afterwards, Roy came out into the courthouse lobby, down to where Jill was sitting in the back. She rose quickly as he came forwards.
“What’s happened?”
Roy motioned her to sit down. “You’re not supposed to be hopping around yet,” he said, the twinkle in his eye belying his stern words. “Remember the doctor’s orders about your leg!”
She made a face at him but sat back down. “Well?”
“Well, we got a full confession on tape,” said Roy, sitting down. “Want me to tell you, or do you want to hear the whole thing yourself?”
She shook her head. “You tell me, please.”
“All right,” said Roy. “What Carter told you in the quarry was the basic truth. He had discovered this plant on your land that he used to make a poison, which caused a heart attack. He disguised himself and tried to talk your father into selling the ranch, but your father wouldn’t sell. Then Carter fixed up a plan. He decoyed your father into coming out to the quarry—”
Roy paused and looked down at Jill, who was staring at her tightly clasped hands. “Do you want me to keep going on?”
She looked up. “Yes,” she said, her voice quiet. “I just want to hear the truth.”
He patted her hands gently. “All right. I’ll make it quick. Carter somehow got his hands on a life-like dummy, and set it up on the edge of the quarry with ropes around it. Then your father came along and saw what appeared to be someone trespassing. He shouted, and Carter pulled the ropes, making it appear as if your father had frightened the man into falling into the quarry. Then Carter—in disguise—approached from behind a bush, told your father what he’d seen, and threatened to have him arrested for manslaughter. At first, your father refused to have anything to do with him—but when Carter told him it would ruin your life, that was too much. So your father agreed to pay blackmail.”
Stopping a moment, Roy looked at Jill. “You were right, Jill,” he said gently. “Your father never did do anything wrong.”
She nodded. “I wish I hadn’t doubted him,” she said softly.
Roy shook his head. “I don’t think you did, not really. You were true and loyal all along.”
Looking up, she gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Roy. Please—go on.”
“Well, that was basically all,” finished Roy. “Finally, your father realized that he was being ruined by the blackmail, so he said he was going to turn himself in. Of course, Carter couldn’t have that. So he paid a visit to the Triple Heart, acting himself, and poisoned your father’s food.”
“I know,” Jill said. “Dr. Macklin and Mrs. Macklin told me what they had found.” She looked up at Roy in concern. “I’d rather that that didn’t come up in court,” she said. “I’m very grateful to them for what they did. I don’t want them to be caused any trouble by it. Can you arrange that?”
Roy nodded. “They won’t be involved in any way.”
“Thank you,” said Jill—then frowned. “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she said. “Why did Carter want to kill me? He’d gotten so much money from Dad already.”
“He was being offered a huge amount of money for the poison,” explained Roy. “He had to get control of your ranch. He tried to get you to sell it, but you were too stubborn!”
Roy’s eyes twinkled. “So he had to get rough,” he continued. “After the time he failed to down you in the meadow, he knew he had to get rid of you fast. So he bugged your phones, and figured out what you were doing and where you were going, and tried again and again.”
Jill smiled. “Thanks to you, it didn’t work.”
“It wasn’t just me,” protested Roy. “Besides, that debt’s been paid in full. If you hadn’t clonked those guys on the head down in the quarry, I wouldn’t be here now. So we’re even. I saved your life, and you saved mine.”
For the first time since they’d solved the mystery, Jill laughed. “I bet they still have headaches!”
Roy grinned, happy to see Jill laughing. “I know they do!” Then he made a stern face. “But, young lady, you deliberately disobeyed orders after I told you to stay on that cliff!”
His sober face couldn’t conceal the teasing light in his eyes. Jill saw it and her eyes sparkled back at him. “Did you really think I was going to?”
Roy let his face relax into a smile. “I should have known better. You don’t take listen to anybody, do you? I have to admit, though, that seeing you down there at the cliff with a rock in hand was one of the nicest sights I’ve ever seen. This time, I’m glad you didn’t obey.” Then his tone grew stern again. “But don’t make it a habit!”
Jill laughed, and then sobered. “All right,” she said, “That answers all my questions except one. How did they know we were going to the quarry? We weren’t followed!”
Roy sighed. “I slipped up there,” he said. “Carter had a man hiding in the barn. He heard everything we said, and then went back to report it to Carter.”
“Brr!” shivered Jill. “I don’t like that! We never even had the slightest clue he was there!”
“Don’t worry,” Roy assured her with a chuckle. “Once they recover from their headaches, they’ll have lots of time to think things over and reform.”
Jill laughed, but just then the door swung open and the Macklins rushed in.
“Jill!” exclaimed Mrs. Macklin, her face bright with excitement. “We’ve discovered that there’s a powerful heart cure in the poison plant! Would you be willing to sell the rights to a medical firm?”
Jill’s face lit up. “Of course!” she exclaimed—then her voice grew quiet. “In a way, that might right the other wrong.” She turned to Roy. “Don’t you think so?”
He nodded. “I do,” he said, smiling down at her. “It’s the best thing you could do. And it’ll give you everything you need to get the ranch back on its feet again.”
Her face was lit by a sunny smile. “Looks like everything has worked out well.”
Roy gave her a hand up from the seat. “Looks like it has,” he answered, as followed by the Macklins, they headed out into the sunshine of a new day.

The End.

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

CowboyFan Saddle Pal Posts: 4267 Registered: Apr 2006	Posted January 23rd, 2007 06:36 PM IP That's great Roughriding Senorita! Thank you so much for sharing it! 'Weep not but think that I have past Before thee o'er a sea of gloom Have anchored safe and rest at last Where tears and mourning cannot come' ~Emily Bronte My Blog...

Leah B. Saddle Pal Posts: 2746 Registered: Feb 2006	Posted January 24th, 2007 10:43 AM IP Thanks for postin' that Roughriding Senorita! Hot Heads and Cold Hearts never solved anything. Vote for the Next Holiday Classic at thenextholidayclassic.com

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted January 25th, 2007 04:32 PM IP

You're welcome! I'm so glad everyone enjoyed it. There were pictures that went wi the story, but I didn't know how to put them in when I was posting the story so here they are now, in order of appearance in text. Oh, could somebody please tell me--is there a way to insert images from Image Gallery when you are editing something? If there is I could just put these in there. Well, until then, here they are now.

Roy urged Trigger up the steep hill

What happened?

My name's Jill

You go on in now.

Tryin' to skeer me!

Roy tied Trigger to the hitching rail

Roy looked again at Jill.

Unless...

Convinced?

Roy urged Trigger to top speed.

I'm following orders

You'd better stay here

Did you get hit?

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Leah B. Saddle Pal Posts: 2746 Registered: Feb 2006	Posted January 25th, 2007 04:35 PM IP What great Pictures! Thanks! Hot Heads and Cold Hearts never solved anything. Vote for the Next Holiday Classic at thenextholidayclassic.com

CowboyFan Saddle Pal Posts: 4267 Registered: Apr 2006	Posted January 26th, 2007 08:38 AM IP Yes, there great! Thank you so much! 'Weep not but think that I have past Before thee o'er a sea of gloom Have anchored safe and rest at last Where tears and mourning cannot come' ~Emily Bronte My Blog...

cowboyforchrist Marshal Posts: 827 Registered: Mar 2007	Posted March 24th, 2007 01:23 AM IP roughriding yu did an excellent job with this story!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yu managed to capture the flavor of the last half of roll on texas moon and give it new meaning in addition to giving new thrills and chills thank you for posting the whole thing!! again excellent job!! happy trails to you

Roughriding Senorita Saddle Pal Posts: 2850 Registered: Jan 2007	Posted March 24th, 2007 12:04 PM IP Thanks, cowboyforchrist! You are very observant, by the way--I did write this story right after seeing Roll On Texas Moon, and I know the flavor kinda got into it! Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed it. May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails! "I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted March 24th, 2007 12:05 PM IP

Oops! One more thing--just so you know, there are two more of my stories on here, Smugglers of Santa Fe and Lost Valley Landgrab. I'm finishing up posting the last one. RoyRogersFan and CowboyFan are also writing and posting GREAT stories, so keep an eye open for them!

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

cowboyforchrist Marshal Posts: 827 Registered: Mar 2007	Posted March 25th, 2007 09:44 PM IP right now im watching roll on texas moon!! just to familiarize myself with the lines and what i said in the earlier post again excellent job!!! happy trails to you

RoyRogersFan
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2154
Registered: Aug 2006

Posted March 26th, 2007 03:34 PM IP

I just saw the pictures for the first time, you really did a good job on those! However,
I did notice that at least two of them were ones I took. I'm glad you're using them!

Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the truth even if it leads you to your death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath. (strikes him across the face) That is how you shall remember it. Rise a knight!
Knighting out of Kingdom of Heaven

You will listen to me. Listen! The Bretheren will still be looking to us, the Black Pearl, to lead. And what will they see? Frightened bilge rats aboard a derelict ship? No! No, they will see free men and freedom! And what the enemy will see is the flash of our cannons! They will hear the ring of our swords and they will know what we can do. By the sweat of our brows, and the strength of our backs, and the courage of our hearts. Gentlemen, hoist the colors.
Elizibeth our of Pirates of the Caribbean, At World's End

cowboyforchrist Marshal Posts: 827 Registered: Mar 2007	Posted March 27th, 2007 06:15 PM IP ok here is my opinion as i stated in an earlier post excellent job!!!! but ill tell yu it is a scary one at the same time cause i empathise with the girl and trouble she is in not of her own fault!! and the plant is a unique object for the bad guy to go after!! great idea there!!!!!!!!!! happy trails to you

Roughriding Senorita Saddle Pal Posts: 2850 Registered: Jan 2007	Posted March 27th, 2007 06:17 PM IP Thanks!! May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails! "I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

cowboyforchrist Marshal Posts: 827 Registered: Mar 2007	Posted March 28th, 2007 11:56 PM IP one thing i noticed yu didnt give jills age i presume shes 20 and nearly 21 like less 2 days from her 21st birthday!! am i correct in my presumption? which would lend some desperation to the bad guys!!! great work!!! happy trails to you

cowboyforchrist Marshal Posts: 827 Registered: Mar 2007	Posted March 31st, 2007 01:01 PM IP answer my question lol!! happy trails to you

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted March 31st, 2007 01:21 PM IP

Quote:
cowboyforchrist wrote:
one thing i noticed yu didnt give jills age i presume shes 20 and nearly 21 like less 2 days from her 21st birthday!!

am i correct in my presumption?

which would lend some desperation to the bad guys!!!

great work!!!

Yes, that is exactly what is going on. I thought I mentioned that...oops. I was not exactly writing on all four cylinders then...

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

Roughriding Senorita
Saddle Pal

Posts: 2850
Registered: Jan 2007

Posted March 31st, 2007 01:22 PM IP

Quote:
cowboyforchrist wrote:
ok here is my opinion as i stated in an earlier post

excellent job!!!!

but ill tell yu it is a scary one at the same time cause i empathise with the girl and trouble she is in not of her own fault!!

and the plant is a unique object for the bad guy to go after!!

great idea there!!!!!!!!!!

I was thinking over these comments in detail… First of all, I’m glad you thought the whole thing about Jill’s ranch was scary. It was supposed to be—I was trying for a kind of trapped feeling, as you put it. Also, of course, I had just finished watching Roll On Texas Moon and I was using ideas from there.

I’m so glad you think the plant idea is original! I thought it would be…even way back then I was looking for original plot ideas. I also thought that it would be nice and mysterious for the heart attack, and I knew there really are plants like that—cuare, for instance.

Did you like the part where Roy calls Trigger down the draw? I always like it in movies when they let Trigger help with the saving.

May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails!

"I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

cowboyforchrist Marshal Posts: 827 Registered: Mar 2007	Posted March 31st, 2007 01:23 PM IP but yu ddidnt answer the age question!! happy trails to you

cowboyforchrist Marshal Posts: 827 Registered: Mar 2007	Posted March 31st, 2007 01:23 PM IP im presuming some sort od desperation on the bgs part cause jill is about to turn 21 !!!!!!!!!!! happy trails to you

Roughriding Senorita Saddle Pal Posts: 2850 Registered: Jan 2007	Posted March 31st, 2007 01:34 PM IP Yeah, I did answer the age question--look on the post above the other one I did! May God keep you smilin' down a million happy trails! "I'm not suffering from insanity...I'm enjoying every minute!!"

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