Chapter Thirty-Two“I want to take a look at the remains of the staging post.”
They were trudging along a pass which cut a way through the soaring rocks on either side. Out here, with Bridger far behind, the temperature steadily rose, the air thick with insects.
“Jesus, it ain't even summer yet,” said one of the two soldiers accompanying Marshal Dixon and Kieran Danks, stagecoach company owner. The soldier adjusted his position in his hard, unforgiving army issue saddle, tore off his neckerchief and wiped his dripping forehead.
“Did none of you hear me?” said Danks, pulling up his horse sharply. The animal's head reared up and it blew out a gust of breath from its flared nostrils.
“I heard you,” said Dixon, bringing his own horse to a halt. “We have to clear this part of the trail first
