“Rustling’s bad here and we’d heard that the gang doing most of the dirty work had plugged up every trail coming in and were getting ready for a final clean-up.”
“I haven’t been here long enough to find out what’s going on,” said Slim, which was partly true. “If rustling is bad, why not appeal to the peace officers?”
The foreman snorted. “The sheriff’s on the other side of the Three Soldiers and he’s either been bought off or is scared to death.”
“How about the marshal at Dirty Water?”
Haines laughed bitterly. “Kovec’s nothing but a tool for the rustlers. It’s a wonder you ever got out here alive.”
“I left when the town was asleep,” grinned Slim.
“That town never sleeps. It’s bad from top to bottom and Hal Titzell is one of the worst of them. He rides all over the country but I never heard of him ever buying any stock to amount to anything and Maxie Denkman and Newt Bemis, who say they’re helping him, are nothing but hired gunmen.”
“Maxie isn’t feeling so well,” said Slim.
“How come?”
“Well, from what I gather, Maxie and his friend Newt must have tried to stop a couple of cowboys from riding into the valley. Seems as though they picked the wrong targets and Maxie got a bullet through his arm.”