The rider came on, stopping only when he was near the box end of the canyon, less than fifty yards from where Billy was waiting. When the dun came out of the junipers and stood looking at the stranger’s horse Billy was kicking himself for not having kept the animal saddled and close. But then he took a good look at the man.
It wasn’t Jase Thornhill.
It wasn’t Ackerman, either. But then, Jase could have sent anybody. Billy was relieved to see the man carried no saddle g*n. At least they were even there.
If it came to a fight, the stranger had the advantage of being mounted. Billy knew a lot would depend on how everything started. Without the dun, he would be at the mercy of the man on the horse—as long as the stranger chose to wait. If it came to a showdown...
He saw the man looking dow
