Hard Ride to Hell (9780786031191) Read Online Free

they would’ve knocked him facedown. If he heard the rocks start to fall and turned to try to run, not only would he be facedown, his head would be pointed toward the middle of the canyon.”
    â€œYou cannot be sure about these things,” Standing Rock insisted.
    â€œMaybe not, but I think there’s a pretty good chance I’m right. What it really looks like is that somebody dragged Blue Bull over here, then climbed up the canyon wall to start the rock slide that covered up his body.”
    Two Bears said, “He would have had to be unconscious or dead for that to happen.”
    Preacher nodded.
    â€œYep, more than likely. Maybe we can tell, if you let me take a good look at the body.”
    â€œHe was my friend,” Standing Rock said. “Stand back. I will do it.”
    â€œSure,” Preacher said. He moved one step back, but that was as far as he went. He wanted to be able to see whatever Standing Rock found.
    Standing Rock knelt beside his dead friend and looked him over from head to toe.
    â€œThere are no injuries except the ones the rocks made when they fell on him,” Standing Rock announced.
    â€œTurn him over,” Preacher suggested.
    Standing Rock sent a hostile glance at the mountain man, but he did as Preacher said and gently took hold of Blue Bull’s shoulders. Carefully, he rolled the body onto its left side.
    A sharp breath hissed between Standing Rock’s clenched teeth. Preacher saw what had prompted the young warrior’s reaction.
    A bloodstain had spread on the back of Blue Bull’s shirt, just to the left of the middle of his back. In the middle of that bloodstain was a small tear in the buckskin.
    â€œA knife did that,” Preacher said. “Somebody stabbed him in the back, probably out in the middle of the canyon, and then tried to hide the body.”
    Two Bears said, “That would mean . . .”
    â€œYep,” Preacher said. “This was no accident. Blue Bull was murdered.”
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    The big man paced back and forth angrily. Despite his size, his movements had a certain dangerous, catlike quality to them. His hat was thumbed back over his blocky, rough-hewn face.
    â€œLet me get this straight,” he said. “You didn’t have any choice but to kill the Indian.”
    â€œThat’s right, Randall,” replied one of the men facing him. “He seen us. He might’ve gone back to his village and warned the rest of those redskins that we’re up here in the hills.”
    The eyes of the man called Randall narrowed as he stared coldly at the two men he had sent out as scouts.
    â€œThere are several big spreads bordering the Indian land,” he said. “And Two Bears doesn’t mind if the punchers who ride for those ranches cut across the Assiniboine hunting grounds. You know that, damn it! We all do. So what in hell made you think that running into a lone warrior was going to cause a problem?”
    The two men, whose names were Page and Dwyer, shuffled their feet uncomfortably. They didn’t like being in dutch with the hardbitten ramrod of this gun-hung bunch that waited in the hills for nightfall.
    Thirty men, along with their horses, stood around in whatever shade they could find, watching as Randall confronted the scouts. The others were every bit as rough and menacing looking as their leader.
    Page had spoken up earlier. Now Dwyer said, “You weren’t there, Randall. You didn’t see how spooked that redskin acted. He knew somethin’ was up, I tell you. Page and me did the only thing we could.”
    â€œAnd we covered his body up good and proper,” Page added. “Nobody’ll ever find him.”
    Randall said, “You seem mighty sure about that. You know that as soon as the rest of his people miss him, they’ll come looking for him.”
    â€œThey won’t find him,” Page insisted.
    Randall wanted to say something else. He wanted to cuss