Ethan looked him in the eyes.
"Then you've never met everyone."
He walked away.
But before he reached his horse, he heard Vane say:
"Tomorrow morning, the territorial commissioner will inspect Dry River."
Ethan turned.
"And?"
"If he approves our claim, the valley becomes company property."
Ethan's expression hardened.
"And if he doesn't?"
Vane smiled.
"Then perhaps there will be an accident."
Twenty Men at the Spring
The company arrived at Dry River just after sunrise.
Ethan had spent the night helping Tomas prepare.
There were not enough weapons to fight twenty trained men.
So they didn't plan to fight them.
They planned to make the valley impossible to take.
Women and children moved deeper into the hills.
Horses were hidden among the trees.
Water containers were filled.
Riders watched every approach.
Ethan studied the ridges.
"This is wrong," he said.
Tomas nodded.
"What?"
"They'll come from the east."
"They came from the west last time."
"Because they wanted you to expect it."
Tomas studied him.
"You think like a soldier."
"My father did."
"Was he a soldier?"
"No."
"Then who taught you?"
Ethan looked toward the horizon.
"The land."
By midmorning, dust appeared.
Then horses.
Twenty riders.
At their center was Silas Vane.
Beside him rode Deputy Marshal Rusk, a territorial officer known for taking money from anyone wealthy enough to offer it.
A third man carried a leather case.
The commissioner.
Ethan recognized him.
Judge Abel Whitmore.
Whitmore dismounted.
Vane stepped forward.
"This is the valley."
Whitmore looked around.
"Where is the opposing party?"
Tomas walked forward.
"I am here."
Whitmore glanced at him.
"You claim these lands."
"I claim our right to the water."
Vane laughed.
"You have no legal claim."
Tomas pointed toward Ethan.
"Ask him."
Whitmore looked at Ethan.
"Mr. Cole?"
Ethan handed him the survey.
"This document predates the company's lease."
Whitmore opened it.
His face changed.
Vane noticed.
"That document was never registered."
"It was signed."
"It was superseded."
"By what?"
"The territorial registry."
Ethan stepped forward.
"Which was filed after the company purchased the land around it."
Vane's voice became cold.
"Careful."
Ethan looked at him.
"You should be."
Silence fell.
Whitmore examined the old survey.
"This requires further review."
Vane shook his head.
"No."
The judge looked at him.
"Excuse me?"
"We paid for a decision."
Everyone heard it.
Even Vane realized too late what he had said.
Whitmore's face reddened.
"I will make the decision."
A rifle cracked.
The bullet struck the ground near Ethan's boot.
Everyone froze.
Rusk shouted.
"Someone fired!"
Chaos erupted.
Company riders reached for their weapons.
Ethan pulled Tomas behind a tree.
"That wasn't us."
"I know."
Another shot.
This time it struck one of Vane's own horses.
The animal collapsed.
Vane stared at the ridge.
"Find the shooter!"
Ethan understood.
Someone was trying to start a war.
The company men spread out.
Tomas's people raised their weapons.
Ethan shouted:
"Don't shoot!"
No one listened.
A third shot came from high above the valley.
Ethan looked.
There.
A figure.
Not Apache.
Not company.
A man in a dark coat.
Ethan mounted Boone.
"I'll handle it."
Tomas grabbed his arm.
"Alone?"
"I have to."
Ethan rode toward the ridge.
The stranger disappeared behind the rocks.
Ethan followed.
When he reached the top, he found a rifle lying in the dust.
Fresh footprints led away.
Ethan picked up the rifle.
Then he heard a voice behind him.
"You should have left this alone."
Ethan turned.
Three men stood there.
The middle one held a pistol.
Ethan recognized him.
Caleb Mercer.
Vane's chief enforcer.
"You shot the horse."
Mercer smiled.