“Why are two of them still here?” Pritchard asked, pointing to the graycoats. “Why didn’t they take off when the rest of the raiding party left?”

“I figure those two were left behind to get you when you came home.” Pritchard absorbed his friend’s words. “Maybe your ma and Idelle, too.

“Aren’t they afraid of a posse coming?”

“Nope,” Ditch answered. “They ain’t afraid of no posse. Look closer. Recognize either of ’em?”

“Yes.” Pritchard squinted. “I know them both. The one smoking the pipe is Bob Toole. He works at Shipley’s hotel. The other one is—”

“—Glen Bedgley,” Ditch finished. “Deputy Glenn Bedgley. Don’t forget, Shipley doesn’t just own the town. He owns the town marshal and the county sheriff, too. Still think they’re afraid of a posse?”

Pritchard shook his head. “I don’t get it. Toole and Bedgley are both Union men. Hell, Toole runs the enlistment board for Shipley. Why would Union men be dressed like Confederate raiders? And why would they kill Pa and burn our house?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Ditch whispered, “but I can guess. My dad says Shipley’s using his position with the government to take over everything he can get his hands on. Remember last winter when he took over the riverside loading docks, claiming they were vital to the Union cause? And the train station? And how he took over the livery stable and the stockyards this past spring?”

“I do,” Pritchard said. “Pa said Shipley tried to buy out the sawmill last year, but he refused to sell.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Shipley had his eye on your family’s mill all along,” Ditch went on, “especially since your pa never took sides with the Union. I’ll bet he’s in town, as we speak, declaring the sawmill a ‘vital resource to the war effort,’ and commandeering it for the ‘Great Cause.’”

“I get it,” Pritchard said. “By dressing his men as reb raiders, Shipley can blame the raid on folks who lean with the South. Not only will that cover his tracks, it’ll rile up every Union gun in the county.”

“That’s how I figure it,” Ditch said. He put his hand on Pritchard’s shoulder. “I’m powerful sorry about your pa.”

Ditch and Pritchard were silent for a long time. Pritchard again fought back tears. They watched the sun slowly fall and kept their eyes on the two Union men, dressed in rebel gray, lounging beneath Thomas Pritchard’s dangling body.

“What do you aim to do?” Ditch finally asked.

“First, I’m gonna kill those two murderin’ bastards,” Pritchard said. His tears were gone, replaced by narrowed eyes and a set jaw. “Then I’m going to cut Pa down from that tree and bury him.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’m going to pay Burnell Shipley a visit.”

Chapter 3

Chapter 3