Something More Read Free

horse was going over backward. The remnants of a hangover dulled his reflexes, making him a split-second slow to dive off the uphill side of the saddle.
    A wildly flailing hoof dealt him a glancing blow an instant before he went headfirst into the muddy bank. The softness of the sodden dirt cushioned much of the impact as he more or less skidded to a halt, the horse crashing to the ground below him.
    Something clunked him in the head, knocking off his hat and coming to a rest atop an outstretched arm. He lay there for a dazed second, conscious of the cold, wet mud beneath him and the misty rain on his cheek. For a moment, Luke felt too tired and sore to move. But already his horse was clambering to its feet, giving itself a head-to-tail shake that sent the empty stirrups flopping.
    The slip and slide of another set of hooves signaled the arrival of Tobe West on the scene. “Luke? Are you okay?”
    Lifting his throbbing head, Luke spit the dirt from his lips. “I’m fi—” He found himself staring into the mud-caked eye sockets of a human skull.
    The shock of the macabre sight drove out any lingering effects from both the fall and the hangover. With an alacrity that was laughable, Luke sprang from the skull, cursing a blue streak, his face almost as pale as the partially exposed skeleton protruding from the eroded bank.
    Tobe gaped in astonishment. “Would you look at that?” he murmured and swung out of the saddle. Luke stared at the remains in shaky silence, waiting for his heart to stop pounding like some Sioux war drum. Emerging from the stand of cottonwoods, Saddlebags Smith shouted to them, “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
    A glint of devilment flashed in Tobe’s eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he yelled back.
    Smiling wanly, Luke muttered, “You’re an ornery son of a buck, Tobe.”
    The cowboy chuckled. But Saddlebags Smith wasn’t laughing. In a frenzy, he charged toward them, traveling as fast as his ancient body would carry him.
    â€œIt’s mine!” he screamed again and again, his false teeth clattering with the vehemence of his claim. “That gold’s mine! You can’t have it! It’s mine by rights!”
    Still grinning broadly, Tobe glanced at Luke. “Shall we let him have it, or not?”
    But Luke was beyond seeing the humor in stringing the old man along. Before he could call a halt to it, the sharp-eyed treasure hunter saw the skeleton’s bones and came to an abrupt stop. For a furious instant, dark eyes glowered at the two of them from beneath white tufting brows. As quickly as he’d left the shelter of the trees, Saddlebags scurried back to them.
    Reaching down, Luke scooped up his hat and scraped the worst of the mud off of it before pushing it onto his head. The misty rain fell a little harder as he stepped closer to examine the skeleton, feeling more sober than he had in years.
    â€œI wonder who it is,” he wondered idly.
    â€œAn Indian probably,” Tobe guessed indifferently.
    Luke doubted that. “Most of them didn’t bury their dead in the ground.” Another chunk of soil crumbled loose, exposing a bony hand and a glint of metal. Crouching down, Luke brushed off some more, then straightened. “Indians didn’t wear class rings, either.”
    â€œA class ring?” The cowboy frowned in surprise.
    â€œThat’s what it looks like to me.” Luke gestured at the gold ring, glistening now in the soft rain. He sighed, knowing he was in for a long and wet day. “Come on. Let’s get those cattle headed for the gate before they scatter all over the place.”
    He headed down the slope to catch his idly grazing horse. Tobe glanced uncertainly at the skeleton. “What about him?”
    â€œWhat about him?” Reins in hand, Luke walked the horse a few steps, watching for any sign of injury and seeing none.
    â€œYou aren’t going to just leave him