“Don’t know. Heard a horse nicker and then mine stumbled and pinned me. Got a bad fall and when I come to I was lying down the hill against some greasewood. Leg a’most busted and an arm as bad. Horse nowhere around. Got anything to drink? Snow ain’t much for thirst.”
De Launay had food and water and gave it to him. After eating ravenously for a moment he was stronger.
“Funny thing, that horse nickerin’. It was snowin’ and I didn’t see him. But, after I come to I tried to climb up where I was throwed. It was some job but I made it. There was my horse, half covered with snow. Some one had shot him.”
“Shot him? And then left you to lie there?”
“Just about that. There wasn’t no tracks. Snow 252 had filled ’em. But I reckon that horse wasn’t just shot by accident.”
“It was not. And Dave’s gone.”
“Dave? What’s that?”
“He’s gone. Left the camp day before yesterday and never came back. I wasn’t there.”
“And madame? She all right?”
“She is—now. I found her yesterday morning with Banker, the prospector. He was trying to torture her into telling him where that mine is located. Hurt her pretty bad.”