“How the hell do you know that?” Booth asked.

“’Cause, after I walked around this cabin and he didn’t shoot, I figured he wasn’t here. So I took a look around that other cabin, and I found his tracks where he ran off into the woods,” Trip crowed. “You said we was gonna track him down, so I can show you which way we need to start.”

This captured both of the brothers’ interest, so they followed him over to the other cabin, where he pointed out Hawk’s tracks from the afternoon before. “Well, I’ll be . . .” Jesse started when Trip pointed out the distinct boot tracks. “He came across that clearin’, musta come up in those trees over there. He musta surprised poor ol’ Tater when he was lookin’ for his teeth.” It looked to be the obvious answer and served to paint a picture of a determined assassin. Actually, it was Tater who surprised Hawk, not the other way around. The picture of a deadly night stalker was fixed in their minds, however.

“We’ve got to track this son of a bitch down and kill him,” Booth said. “’Cause he’s gonna keep comin’ till he gets all of us and all the money.”

“Let’s get at it, then,” Trip said. “I just wish I’d get a chance to take him on face-to-face. I’d like to see if he’s as good when he’s facin’ me as he is when he’s hidin’ in the bushes.”

After following the obvious tracks across the sandy clearing, they easily found the spot in the trees where Hawk had left his horse. There had apparently been no effort on his part to hide his trail as he rode out of the trees and into the hills beyond. The trail ended, however, when they came to a wide stream. From that point forward, Hawk had become careful about hiding his trail. They spent almost an hour riding up and down both sides of the stream, but to no avail. Booth reined his Morgan gelding to a stop and sat there gazing at the mountains before him, feeling the frustration of knowing Hawk would be hard to find in that wilderness. In a short while, both Jesse and Trip came from opposite directions and pulled up beside him. “I can’t find a track where anything came out of the water,” Jesse complained. “He’s just disappeared.”

“Well, I reckon that’s one more thing we know about him,” Trip said. “The son of a bitch can fly.”