“That’s the idea, Mrs. Conley. We make a trade, eh?”
“S’pose Dawn no marry you?”
“She like to see Peter get hung?” countered Ryker.
“She not like.”
“And there you are, Mrs. Conley. You tell her about it. You not need to tell Moses. He not need to know. Our secret, eh?”
“I not tell nobody.”
“Good! Well, I’ll be goin’ on. Peter have trial next week. You let me know Monday.”
Ryker mounted his horse and rode away, well pleased with himself. Once he turned in his saddle and waved back at the huddled figure on the old porch, which did not wave back at him.
After Ryker had passed from sight, Dawn came out. She halted near her mother and stared across the hills toward the Black Horse ford.
“I heard everything he said, mother.”