“What’s the matter with you, boy?” His grandpa spoke up then. “I knew right off this feller ain’t one of them saddle tramps that hang around Bodine’s.” He stuck his hand out toward Hawk. “My name’s Jacob Woodley, and that’s my grandson, Thomas.”

“John Hawk,” he said as he shook Jacob’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Not totally convinced that he and his grandpa weren’t in danger from this formidable-looking stranger, Thomas reminded his grandpa, “We’d best get goin’ or Mr. Pressley might not get to our horses today.”

“Then I reckon we’d best jump in the wagon,” Jacob said, as cheerfully as if on his way to a county fair. “How ’bout it, Mr. Hawk? We’d be glad to have you ride along with us, seein’ as how we’re all headin’ to the same place.”

“Might as well,” Hawk said, and stepped up into the saddle again. He figured it might be a good idea to ride into Bodine’s beside the farm wagon, in case Booth might be watching for anyone following him. This was in spite of the fact that Tater could identify him, if he was the one who happened to spot him.

* * *

Hawk was surprised to see a few changes at Bodine’s as he rode in beside Jacob and Thomas. He saw the blacksmith’s shop next to the barn, as well as several outbuildings that weren’t standing when last he was there. It reflected Rufus Bodine’s prosperity at a time when the fur-trading business was no longer a major industry. It left little doubt in Hawk’s mind that the largest part of Bodine’s income had to come from outlaws on the run. And he fully expected to find that Booth and his three partners had come here. The question now was whether or not they were still here.

When they pulled into Bodine’s, Thomas drove the wagon straight to the blacksmith’s shop while Hawk left Rascal at the hitching post in front of the trading post. Taking note of the one horse tied there, a black gelding with a fancy hand-tooled saddle, he deliberately drew the Winchester from his saddle sling. Jacob stepped down from the wagon and left Thomas to talk to Reuben Pressley while he went to the store. “I’ll be there directly, Grandpa,” Thomas called after him. “Just go in the store part.”

In the saloon, Bodine and his wife were standing at the bar talking to Booth Corbin, who had come to pick up a bottle of whiskey to take back to the cabin. The conversation was mainly about Booth’s appearance. “I swear, I didn’t know it was you when I first looked up,” Dinah Belle claimed. She beamed broadly. “Did you, Rufus?”

“Well, he looked different, but I knew it was him,” Bodine said. “Why’d you shave it off?”