"Or too lickered up ta find yer way out of a piss-pot," Dewane added with a sneer.

"Didn't have a drop," Pete protested, still grin-ning as he plopped down across from Elliot in the only other chair. "But I could sure stand a drink now. How's Clay doin'?"

"The same," Clydell said and set his bottle of rot-gut on the table.

Elliot allowed the boy only a few swallows from the upended bottle before demanding, "If you have something to report, Mr. Saunders, I would very much like to hear it now. "

The grin was still there when the bottle was low-ered. Elliot would have thought it was a deformity of the boy's mouth, that constant grin, if he hadn't seen him without it when Clay had rejoined them, all cov-ered in blood.

"Sure thing, boss," Pete replied. "When I got to Tombstone, it weren't hard findin' the lady. She'd caused plenty excitement ridin' in the way she did with all those fancy rigs and guards of hers. Just about everyone was talkin"bout her, speculatin' who she was and what she was doin'—"

"Yes, yes, that happens no matter where she goes," Elliot interrupted impatiently. "Just get on with it."

"Well, she checked herself and her whole bunch into the Grand, so I figured she was there to stay a while. I was set to ride out the next mornin' after I found out if we had to worry 'bout a posse comin'

after us—"

"Do we?" Dewane wanted to know.

"Nah. The fella I asked who sweeps out the jail said we was listed as 'persons unknown' when they turned the body in. They didn't give no descriptions, so the marshal had nothin' to go on. But as I was sayin', it's a good thing I overslept the next mornin' and didn't leave first thing."

"Had some fun, did ya, while we was sittin' here twiddlin' our thumbs waitin' on ya?" Dewane asked in a surly tone.

"Ah, come on, Dewane, what was I supposed to do with time to kill? So I was up a little late that first night. If I hadn't enjoyed myself some, I wouldn't've still been there when the lady left town again."

"She's already on the move?" Elliot demanded with some surprise.

"Sure is. She took off right after the Shootout— hey, Dewane, you'll never guess who bought it!" Pete added excitedly. "The McLaury brothers and the Clanton kid."

"The Earps?"

"Who else?"

"Didja see it?" Clydell asked.

"Nah. It happened while I was findin' out what I could at the jail. But you could hear the shots firm' from everywhere. By the time I got there it was all over."

"If you please, Mr. Saunders," Elliot interjected. "I am interested in the duchess, not some obscure shootout in one of your frontier towns."

"Sure, boss, but you see, the lady was there. And right after is when she took to her heels. It don't take much to figure that all that killin' turned her stomach enough to want to get out of there. Anyway, I figured as late as I was, I might as well go by her hotel one more time, and that's when I seen her wagons lined up out front and bein' loaded up."

"I will assume you were smart enough to follow her?"

Pete nodded. "Until they made camp last night a few miles past Benson. They're stickin' to the stage roads even though they picked up some breed for a guide before they left town. He had 'em pullin' out by dawn this mornin' and headin' for Tucson. That's when I come on back here."

"Where is she going now?" Elliot asked.

"Sounds like Tucson," Clydell offered helpfully.

Elliot sighed inwardly. Imbeciles. Nothing but a bunch of imbeciles.

"I assure you the duchess does not intend to re-main in this territory, Mr. Owen. It is her ultimate destination I am concerned with."

"She's travelin' north now, but it's sure as shootin' she ain't headin' up ta Utah," Dewane said, the only one to grasp what Elliot wanted. "Nuthin' but deserts up thataway. They can either turn off toward Californy or head on over inta New Mexico at any time, then maybe up ta Colirada. Thar's railroads up thar'U take her all the way back East if she's a mind."

"Very good." Elliot finally smiled, though it was a cold, anticipatory smile. "And as long as she keeps to the roads, which is almost assured with those cum-bersome vehicles of hers, then we can easily get ahead of her with a little hard riding. How far is this Tuc-son?"

"Too far fer them fancy rigs ta make it t'day, but if n we leave now an' ride through the night, we'll get thar first."

"Excellent, but we will also need more men. Would you happen to be acquainted with any in Tuc-son?"

"I might," Dewane replied. "Ya thinkin' of attackin' in force now?"

"You are forgetting how many armed men she has, Mr. Owen, and now she's added still another to that number. It's too bad about that guide. One of you could have offered your services for the job, and once in her camp, it would have been a simple matter to slit her throat and escape the first moonless night. By the way, what exactly is a breed?"

"A half-breed. Ya know, part Injun. What was he, Pete? Apache?"

"Nah, too tall. And I ain't never seen an Apache breed wear a Colt like he really knew how to use it.

They stick to rifles."

"Tall, huh?" Dewane said uneasily. "Ya wouldn' happen ta have caught his name, would ya?"

"Matter of fact, I was close enough to hear two of her guards talkin"bout him 'fore they kinda insisted I

leave the area. They called him Mr. Thunder."

"Ah, shit!" Dewane swore, then added a few more choice words to that. "She's gone an' got herself a fast gun, a real fast gun!"

"Am I to understand you know this Thunder chap?"

Dewane forgot himself enough to glare at the Englishman for his calm in the face of his own upset. Colt Thunder, the only bastard who'd ever made him back down from a fight. Shit! What the hell was he doing this far south?

"Ya could say I know 'im, yes. I seen 'im draw on a fella a few years back, and thar weren' no contest to it."

"But, Dewane, that were—"

"Shut up, Clydell!" Dewane growled at his brother. "I know what I seen." And then in a calmer tone:

"The Injun's no one ta mess around with, boss. He don' take no crap or insult from any man. He don'

hafta, as good as he is. An' ya can bet yer sweet life he's the one shot up our boys. That'd make sense, what with her bein' able ta hire him so quick. She had ta already have met 'im."

"So where is the problem? You simply eliminate him."

"An' how in hell we supposed ta do that? I tol' ya—"

"Don't worry, dear fellow," Elliot replied sardon-ically. "I'm not suggesting you challenge him to a duel. A bullet in the back ought to do nicely, and then the duchess will need another guide, won't she?"

"I guess she will at that." Dewane grinned. As long as he didn't have to get anywhere near Colt Thunder

…

"If you have nothing else to report, Mr. Saunders, I suggest we be on our way," Elliot said as he stood up to go. "I will need time to survey this next town to see what advantage, if any, might be found in its layout."

"What about Clay?" Pete wanted to know.

"If you think he can survive the ride, by all means bring him along."

Pete glanced at Dewane as the Englishman walked out, but they didn't hesitate long in following. The fifth man of their group, who hadn't contributed to the conversation, did the same. He had known Clay just a few months, but wouldn't waste sympathy on a man careless enough to get shot, since they all took that risk. Clydell was the only one who spared a last glance for the dying man, and as an afterthought, set his bottle of whiskey on the floor next to Clay's pallet before he, too, followed the others.

Chapter Sixteen

They were a beautiful sight, the woman and the mag-nificent horse. For a short while Colt was mesmerized by the skill that made her seem part of the animal in its wild race across the cactus-strewn basin. He would never have believed she could ride like that, not a woman who chose to pamper herself with fancy coaches. And she wasn't even sitting the horse prop-erly. She sat sideways, for Christ's sake.

It made him wonder what other misconceptions he might have formed about her.

But he didn't wonder for long. Quickly his temper started to rise, and by the time she reached him, it was just short of boiling. He didn't even give her a chance to catch her breath, and his voice was so loud he managed to spook her stallion, so that it was sev-eral moments more before she got him enough under control to even hear what Colt was shouting about.

"— all the stupid, idiotic. you're crazy, right? I should have known! Why else would you pay a dozen men to guard you, then take off without a sin-gle one of them beside you?"

"What are you talking about?" Jocelyn demanded when she finally brought Sir George up beside him. "I saw you from a distance. I rode directly toward you. If you haven't noticed, there are no hills, or trees, or even bushes that anyone could hide behind. I was perfectly safe in covering this distance alone."

"Is that right? Well, look again, Duchess. That mountain lion over yonder is a mite far from his hunt-ing ground, but he's still there. Whether he caught the dinner that led him this far afield is anyone's guess, but it sure don't mean he'd ignore an easy prey like you if he caught your scent."

He waited a moment for her to stare aghast at the slow-moving cat which was only about three hundred yards south of them. Fortunately, it didn't appear very interested, but she didn't know that, and he wasn't finished with her yet.

"And the snake that spooks that skittish animal of yours into dropping you in the dust will still be there to take a whack at you while your horse is galloping off to safety. You think someone can reach you in time to cut out the poison before you're dead? Think again. Man isn't the only danger out here."