the Key-Lock Man (1965) Read Online Free Page A

how, at that distance, he could have known it was a canteen? Did he have field glasses? And as soon as this occurred to him he was convinced of it. Not many men had field glasses, but here and there some ex-soldier had them, or might have picked them up by swapping around an army post.
    It gave him a queer feeling to think that the man might even now be looking right into their faces, or reading their lips as they talked.
    "The hell with it!" Hardin exclaimed suddenly, and shucking his Winchester he rode down into the gloomy cleft. There was nothing to do but to follow.
    Immediately it was dark. The rock walls crowded in on either side. Neill's stirrup brushed the wall from time to time, and he could see nothing either before or behind him. Only when he looked up could he see the narrow strip of sky, far above, and occasionally a star.
    Momentarily he feared the racketing boom of a shot in the narrow passage, but it did not come. After riding for some time and after several winding turns, they saw gray light before them, and then a bright star.
    Only it was not a star-it was a campfire.
    As they emerged from the passage they spread out quickly and advanced in a mounted skirmish line, rifles ready.
    There were scattered trees about, and some low brush, rendering their view indistinct. Chesney was the first to reach the campfire, and the sound of his swearing shattered the stillness like the splintering of glass.
    Beside a running stream a small fire had been built, and near it was a supply of additional fuel. On a bit of paper, weighted with two stones, was a small mound of coffee, and a smaller mound of sugar.
    They stared at the scene, choked by bitterness. The taunt was obvious. They were being nursed along like a pack of tenderfeet.
    "I'll be double-damned if I will!" Short exclaimed angrily.
    Hardin was more philosophical. "Might as well make the most of it. We can't trail him at night anyway."
    Kimmel brought a coffeepot from his gear and dipped water from the stream. Kimmel was a practical man, and he liked his coffee.
    They stripped the rigs from their horses and picketed them on the grass of a meadow close by.
    There was little enough in their saddlebags, for none of them had expected a long chase, and they must ride on short rations to make them last. Neill looked at the small pile of sugar enviously, wishing he might hide some of it to carry home to his wife. It had been a long time since she had tasted real sugar.
    Short, his burst of anger gone, was staring about in an odd manner. He looked from the flowing water to the pool into which it fell. "Boys, I know this place," he said. "I've heard tell of it many's the time.
    This here is Mormon Well."
    Hardin had been feeding twigs into the fire. Now he stood back and looked carefully around, measuring what he saw against what he had heard in the towns and the cow camps. Towering cliffs on three sides of a bowl, the clustered trees, the meadow. "Yes, I think you're right," he agreed. "It could be."
    "Now, why do' you suppose he led us here?"
    McAlpin asked.
    "What's Mormon Neill glanced from face to face. "What's Mormon Well, I never heard of it."
    Nobody replied, but Short walked around the pool. "Why, the damned fool!" he said. "He's led us right to it! I'd lay a dollar to a doughnut he's never even heard the story."
    Hardin's eyes were grimly amused. He repeated McAlpin's question. "Why do you suppose he led us here?"
    Chesney was sour. "That Mormon Well story is just whiskey talk."
    "Like hell it is!" Short's temper flared.
    "I've seen gold from that cache-seen it with my own eyes! Held it right in my hand!" He thrust out an open hand, then closed it to a hard fist. "Within a few miles of this place there's more gold than a man's likely to see in a lifetime!"
    "Gold?" Neill's voice was startled.
    "You know the story better'n any of us, Bill,"
    McAlpin suggested. "You tell him."
    "I ain't about to. Damn it, can't you see what he's tryin" to do? If we start huntin'