Just In Time

Emmitt left Elmo down by the meandering creek near the falls to guard the tired horses and keep an eye on the well worn trail. Emmitt thought things were way too quiet and wondered what could be causing this unsettled stillness. A chill shivered down his back as he slipped through the scrub brush toward a spot where Logan sometimes camped. Even the frogs had stopped their mournful song and a far away hawk screeched faintly in the silence. Emmitt could feel the cold tension rising when he spotted the fading embers of a campfire near the crooked old oak tree just a few feet in front of him. As he neared the little camp Emmitt spotted Logan slowly rolling to his back holding his trusty rifle in his hands. Then a cold numbing fear gripped Emmitt. For a moment he froze. A lone figure of a man with a rifle pointed at Logan was visible in the faint moonlight. No time to even think. Emmitt drew his pistol an fired. Somehow the bullet hit the silhouetted mans rifle and it flew from his hands into the night. The man fell back into the brush and faded into the darkness. Logan and Emmitt rode back down to the meandering creek near the falls to meet up with Elmo and together they would settle this. Tryin to shoot a Sackett might be seen by some as a big mistake...

Night Sounds

Logan woke with a start. Something had stirred in the darkness beyond the campfire. Logan lay motionless in his bedroll, listening. A chorus of tree frogs were singing down by the creek, their high pitched hum moving up and down as if were coming from a single thing. Suddenly, the tree frogs fell silent. Logan's muscles tensed as he felt for the rifle he kept next to his bedroll. He eased it into his arms; the cold steel felt comforting in his hands. Slowly, he eased to his side and in a single motion rolled away from the firelight and into the bushes. He stared into the darkness. His eyes could make out the top of Clinch Mountain against the dark sky, the moonlight illuminating the treeline. The frogs remained silent. They were waiting too, waiting for whatever was about to happen to get over with so they could resume their song. A faint snap penetrated the darkness; a twig, Logan thought, snapping under the weight of a footstep. That was the only sound. The night wind whispered through the pine trees above Logan's head. Everything else was silent and still. Too still, Logan thought. He peered into the scrub brush for some sign of movement. Nothing. Somewhere in the distance a hawk screeched; so far away that it could barely be heard above the whisper of the wind. Then another sound, a sound Logan knew very well...the click of a rifle hammer.

Bitin' off more than you can chew...

Logan crept silently along the rocky crag. One slip, one falling stone, would give away his position. Twitter was tied up back at camp, waiting for Logan to return. How did this get so bad, Logan thought. Just this morning he was sitting at the bar at B&B Drug, enjoying a cherry phosphate. That was before. Before the ride down the lonely trail. Before he realized he was being followed by Harold Chew. Before the story somehow switched to third person. Seemed like a lifetime ago, Logan thought. He hadn't had anything to eat since that last cherry phosphate; seemed like his stomach was thinking his throat had been cut. Kind of like what old Davis had done to Grandpappy Sackett. But that was a long time ago too. A thought began to roll over in Logan's mind, one that wouldn't go away. Somehow, Logan began to feel like this trouble with Harold Chew might have something to do with Grandpappy Sackett's dealings with old man Davis. If that's the case, Logan thought, this is gonna end bad. Logan looked out over the dark prairie. Somewhere out there was his brothers. He couldn't help but wish they were here...

Hot On The Trail:

Turns out it was ole Harvey Bates camp. On down the trail the boys spotted the faint glow from a small hat sized fire. As the boys rode on in they saw none other than Edgar Floyd layin up against a rock. Seems ole Edgar had slipped across the mountain to "have coffee" with Maud Carmack but stayed too long and didn't make it back to Sofi before dark. I'm afraid when he gets home he'll have a lot of splanning to do. So the boys rode on into the darkining night. With H.C., Harvey Bates and the Elliots all in the area Elmo and Emmitt were startin to worry some. Logan could handle about anything but things didn't look good with all the hired guns around. The boys still didn't know what Logan did to stir these scruffy faced good fer nothins up but whatever it was they had to find him and find him fast...

Logan's In Trouble:

Emmitt and Elmo rode on toward where they had last saw Logan. That onery Hicks boy had told Elmo that Harold Chew was out to get Logan. HC as they called him had teamed up with them Elliot boys and they were close behind Logan with nothin good on their minds. As Clinch mountain came in sight the Sackett boys spotted a whisp of smoke from a hat sized fire about half way up the mountain. Whatever was in HC's craw meant Logan was in a heap of trouble. HC once shot one of Nine Bowens mules just to see Nine spit. If that was Logan's fire the boys knew HC and the Elliot's could see it too. A slight mist was hanging on the mountain as Emmitt and Elmo eased around the scraggly bushes to within sight off Logan's forlorn camp...