Seven men rode hard into the gathering dusk.
Sheriff Nick Cobby Grant, Floyd McBaiden, Moses Ledi, Wachipa Sey, Leo Brand, Ato and Chris.
The last vestiges of the daylight gave way to the gloom of darkness, and still, they galloped on. They stopped for thirty minutes to let the horses drink and get their second wind, and then they continued.
The conversation was minimal.
There was an urge to see things done right, and that was a common purpose that drove them.
It was pitch black when they finally entered the woods of New Mount.
Ato led them through the ghost town, through the forest, and soon they saw the lighted windows of the big cabin in the woods, and they got down from their horses and tied them up.
“What next?” Sheriff Nick Cobby Grant asked quietly.
And then a voice came fro
