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Show LEE NELSON'S CHAPTER 48 It snowed during the night, but not very much. A few inches at most. In the early morning while Sam and Lance were preparing their gear for what could be an extended ex-tended journey in pursuit of Dick Boggs, Kathryn was taking a walk along the banks of the Beaverhead River, sorting out her thoughts and feelings. Two of the Indians had agreed to accompany her to Virginia Virgi-nia City, but they had had some trouble finding and catching their horses and wouldn't be ready to leave until later in the day. Sam's coolness and rejection had been hard to take, but as Kathryn thought about it, he had treated her no worse than she had treated him in Salt Lake. At least Sam had left the door open, saying he would look her up when he returned re-turned to Salt Lake. He was right; the timing was bad. Had she dropped drop-ped in on him several weeks or months later, things might have been different. It would probably be best to return to Salt Lake. Sam needed more time to get over Grizzly Fire Woman's death, and he needed to finish his business with Boggs. That worried her as much as anything. any-thing. The old man she had patched up hadn't seemed dangerous. Not with a wooden leg and a patch over one eye. But after finding out how Boggs had deliberately spread smallpox among the Indians, she knew her initial impression had been wrong. Kathryn was a little over half a mile upstream from camp when she was startled by a white snowshoe rabbit racing down the path towards to-wards her. She held still as it bounded by. She wondered what had startled it, and looked ahead into the thickening willows. "Good morning, Kathryn," said a voice that was strangely familiar. "I guess that's everything," said Sam, jerking tight the last diamond hitch on the pack saddle. "Wish we had more ammunition," ammuni-tion," said Lance. "Maybe we can pick some up on the way, from a prospector, maybe a trapper," suggested Sam. Lance nodded and turned towards to-wards his tepee. "I'll say goodbye to Kicking Woman, then we can be on our way." Sam just stood there holding the horses. Before entering the tepee, Lance turned to Sam. He had been aware of Sam's moodiness since the little blowup with Kathryn the night before. He knew it would be good if Sam could clear the air between be-tween him and Kathryn before their paths went in different directions. direc-tions. "Don't you think you ought to say goodbye to Kathryn?" said Lance. "Saw her walking upstream up-stream a little while ago. Wouldn't take a minute for you to ride up there and have a few words with her." Sam had been thinking the same thing. He had slept very little dur- ing the night. Kathryn had sure picked a bad time to drop in on him. She thought they could just start where they left off in Salt Lake. But they couldn't. So many things had happened, and were happening. happen-ing. Still, Sam felt bad he had been so hard on her. Lance was right. It would be good to have some parting part-ing words with her, to patch things i " up. With time, maybe he and Kathryn could get things going again. After tossing the lead rope of the pack horse over a tree limb, Sam swung into the saddle and reined his buckskin mare towards the river. riv-er. In the new snow it was easy to spot Kathryn's trail headed upstream. up-stream. He knew the trail belonged to her because there were no other tracks in the new snow and Lance had said he had seen Kathryn walking walk-ing upstream. Sam followed. Sam wondered what he should say to her. He figured he should apologize for his abrupt behavior the day before. Maybe even promise prom-ise to come and see her as soon as the business with Boggs. was finished. He decided against inviting invit-ing her to remain in the Indian camp until he returned. Sam contemplated how to phrase his apology when he entered en-tered a clump of willows. He pulled the horse to a sudden halt, carefully careful-ly studying the tracks in the snow. Kathryn's tracks were no longer the only ones in the new snow. A larger boot track, a white man's boot, now accompanied her smaller smal-ler tracks. But something was wrong with the new tracks. Sam glanced ahead through the thickening willows, wondering who the other person could be. There were no other tracks coming from the camp. Seeing no one, he dismounted to take a closer look. He spotted a round hole in the snow, then another a foot further up the trail. Sam realized what was wrong with the new boot tracks. There were only half as many as there should have been. The round holes in the snow had been made by a wooden leg. Sam reached back and quietly pulled his carbine out of the scabbard. scab-bard. He pumped a bullet into the chamber while looking forward through the willows, thinking how stupid he had been in underestimating underesti-mating Boggs. Instead of fleeing to Helena with the freighters, Boggs had come upstream after the kid who had shot him in the leg. Instead In-stead of finding Sam, however, the old man had stumbled onto Kathryn. In the new snow it was easy to see from the tracks that Kathryn was in front .probably with the bar-' rel of Boggs' gun in her back, as the trail led upstream through the willows. wil-lows. Expecting an ambush at any moment, Sam moved cautiously forward until he found the horse tracks. The boot tracks disappeared dis-appeared where Kathryn and Boggs had mounted. The horses had headed upstream at a gallop. Sam couldn't guess where they were headed. Taking one last look at the snow for any additional evidence that might be available, Sam spotted a patch of red, possibly blood. He crouched for a closer look and picked up a piece of white material, possibly a piece of the white shawl Kathryn had been wearing. It was stained wilh blood. Sam leaped upon his horse, keeping the rifle in his hand instead of returning it to the scabbard. He resisted the temptation to follow Boggs immediately. He didn't have any idea where the old man was going, or how long it would take to catch him. Digging his heels into the horse's sides, he galloped back to camp. "Boggs has Kathryn," shouted Sam as he jerked his horse to a halt in front of Lance's tepee. The half-breed half-breed was still inside. "I'm going on ahead. Follow me with the pack horse." By the time Lance crawled out of the tepee, all he could see was the rear end of Sam's buckskin horse as it lunged up the trail. r . i - ' I ,w " " y Serving as eighth grade class officers for Farmington Junior High are left to right, Hillary Stewart, vice president; Amy Toronto, president; and Ashley Lambert, secretary. |