"Jim Palma," Muckamuck Charlie grunted.
"He didn't have to show himself," Tesno muttered. He began to understand the plan now.
Another shot rang out. A horse screamed and started to buck, a brilliant red streak across his rump. Rejack barked orders and waved his arms as teamsters jumped around frantically, trying to quiet down the horses and unhook the harness of those that were down. The men who had been posted on the wagon tongue to steer now were streaking up the slope to help with the animals.
Jim Palma could sit up there and pot horses till confusion reigned completely, Tesno thought. But of course, the man had an additional purpose. He meant to draw whoever was guarding the boiler up there after him to give his partner a chance to strike. He stepped into the open to fire a quick shot again now. And this time Tesno was ready for him with his rifle rested against the trunk of a tree. He aimed and fired. Palma faded from sight.
"You gottem!" Muckamuck Charlie said.
"I doubt it," Tesno said. "Not at this distance. But he knows we've seen him. Let's go, Charlie."
He hurried down to his horse, mounted, and joined Charlie at the road. They rode down it a few yards and were out of sight of the butte.
"You keep after him," Tesno said, waving Charlie on as he reined off the road. "I'll maybe catch up to you later."
Palma's partner would certainly have been watching, would have seen them leave and would assume they had been decoyed after Palma. He would make his move now—any second, Tesno thought as he worked his horse up through a stand of trees toward the suspended wagon. When he came to more open ground, he dismounted and continued afoot. Within a hundred yards of the wagon he knelt in brush cover.
He waited, wondering why Palma's partner didn't make his play. Then he realized that the man would wait for the horses to be unhitched and moved to cover so the rope would have only the weight of a doubletree at its end. There would be only the wheel block to deal with.