Marshal De La Cruz moved fast as he made his way down the street towards the sheriff’s office. His homely horse, Old Moan, was still tied up in front where she had been left; at the sight of her master, she let out a bellow so unearthly anyone else in the streets could feel tears stream down their faces, regardless of their mood.

“Yes, I’m back, old girl,” he greeted the mare and began to unhitch her. Not far behind followed Sheriff Reynold, Deputy Alcott, and the Cavanaughs.

“You’re actually going to the Cheyenne Crossing Caves?” said Reynold.

The marshal stared back at him as if he had asked a dumb question. “Yes? Where else would I be going? Miss Cavanaugh said she saw Sam and Flat ascending the mountain to the caves earlier today; that’s the first real lead I’ve gotten since I’ve been here.”

“Don’t you remember the caves, marshal?” the sheriff proceeded, “When you came here years ago. That’s where we searched for Ghortfash.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“Then you remember how dark and treacherous they are.”

The marshal continued to look at the sheriff with a look of angry confusion. “What are you trying to say, Reynold?”

Reynold shrugged. “I’m just wondering if you really are sure you want to go there to look for these two men if you don’t have to. The cave system is extensive and full of all sorts of creatures. Not exactly the kind of place one easily can get around in.”

“Yes, I believe you claimed the caves had a prairie witch at one point,” mocked the marshal. Reynold’s face went white.

“I did, but I now know better than to assume anyone would believe me,” he retorted, “but I do know for certain it has cave buffalo. Nasty ones at that.”

“I have a pistol,” De la Cruz patted his side, “I can handle a cave buffalo or two.”

The sheriff now shot the marshal a look. “You think you can take down a cave buffalo. In pitch darkness. With a little handgun?” He gave a chuckle, “I’m not sure what the cave buffalo are like where you’re from, marshal, but they’re quite sizable here.”

“When I was a child a cave buffalo herd carried off my puppy, Spots,” said Claudius a bit ruefully. The two lawmen glanced back at him.

“I don’t think they do that,” said Reynold.

“They did! We were outside playing near the caves, Spots and I. An unexpected flash thunderstorm happened and must have spooked some of the cave buffalo near the cave opening. They rushed out; I barely had time to jump out of their path myself. Poor Spots somehow got bumped up on top of a buffalo and I remember seeing them run off down the mountainside with him still sitting there. It is the worst memory I have from my otherwise happy childhood.”

Both Reynold and De La Cruz were silent a few moments.

“My point is our cave buffalo are big,” Reynold continued, disregarding Claudius’s comment.

“Well, sheriff, if they’re too big for one man to handle, surely as the sheriff of Fox Den you’d be joining me in searching for Sam and Flat. And we'd likewise be joined by your…deputy, although I’d think he needs to put all those bottles down first.”

Alcott, acknowledged, ran up. “Yes, sir, Marshal De La Cruz!” He stepped into the sheriff’s office, clinking as he moved.

“Or,” said Reynold, “we can be smart about this.”

“Smart about…what?” replied the marshal.

“Well, we have no reason to assume Sam and Flat know you’ve come for them today.”

“…they’ve climbed the mountain to go into the Cheyenne Crossing Caves,” answered De La Cruz, “which, as I understand it, is not a place they go often. What else would they be doing but fleeing from me?”

“But why would they know to flee from you, marshal? How would they know you were coming to town?” Reynold hoped he was remaining straight-faced as he spoke. If the marshal did accuse him of giving the two outlaws the heads up, as he in fact had for his own benefit, he knew he wouldn’t be able to remain convincing. But Sam and Flat were doing what he couldn’t do and getting his arm back without Meriem having a clue of their intentions. He had to make sure they weren’t disturbed in that work.

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The marshal did seem contemplate what Reynold said. While he did not particularly like or trust Reynold, the thought that anyone who knew about his visit would warn wanted outlaws of his arrival did seem unlikely. The sheriff may have been incompetent, but the townsfolk seemed to commend his work. That counted for something, De La Cruz begrudgingly admitted to himself.

“Alright then, sheriff,” he replied, “what is it you think is going on?”

“Well,” Sheriff Reynold stepped forward, “you heard Simpson. Sometimes Sam and Flat take day jobs.”

“Is there a horse ranch up there?”

“Well, no, but doesn’t mean they’re not…sneaking to a horse ranch somehow that way.”

“…are there any ranches in the area where it reasonably makes sense for them to sneak to from there?”

Reynold faltered a little. “I suppose…not really…but then again, neither you or I are horse thieves. Who knows what thoughts go on in their heads.”

Marshal paused a moment. “I’d like to think I know what goes on in the minds of criminals,” he offered, “and I seem to do a fine job tracking outlaws, so I have to believe I have an okay grasp on their minds.”

“Well, but what reason could men like Flat and Sam, horse thieves, have to go up the mountainside?”

“If they were fleeing me, to go into hiding or escape the area.”

“But if they had no idea you were coming? As we have to assume to be the case? What then?”

The marshal was quiet.

“Would they- if they didn’t have a reason to- go into the Cheyenne Crossings Caves?”

“No…” the marshal admitted, “I suppose not. Particularly if they knew about the cave buffalo.”

“Therefore,” Reynold waved his hand, “as there is no reason for them to know you were coming today, we have to assume they were up on the mountain for a different reason. Day work makes the most sense.”

“And?”

“And, as we have to assume they’re not in Cheyenne Crossing Caves. In which case, they could be anywhere.”

“Why wouldn’t they just be up on the top of the mountain? Having a picnic?” hypothesized De La Cruz, “Shouldn't we go up and check?”

“The top of the mountain isn’t really much to look at and is extremely rocky. Seems like a poor choice for a picnic site.”

The marshal’s eyes fell to the others present apart from Reynold. “Do you agree with what he’s saying? Is there no reason someone would want to go up the mountain except to go to the caves?”

“I haven’t been back up since Spots was taken,” said Claudius.

“I don’t take anyone there when I want alone time,” added Classie, “there’s less rugged terrain.”

“-You mean when you spend time alone with your girlfriends to talk sewing and cooking, right?” Claudius quickly inquired, ever the crusader to maintain his sibling's wholesome image.

“I’ve debated going up there a time or two to practice my shooting,” said Alcott, back from setting his bottle collection down, “but I got a good spot in town already.”

The marshal remained staring quietly for some time. His gut was telling him the logical thing to do was to go up the mountainside, go into the caves, and find Sam and Flat. Yet, the people of Fox Den were all suggesting the Cheyenne Crossing Caves were the only thing atop the mountain and no one with any common sense would want to go to them. Sheriff Reynold had not handled the matter of Flat and Sam logically so far, yet maybe there was some rhyme and reason to what was being said now.

“So,” De La Cruz sighed, “what would you have us do, Reynold?”

Reynold stood up straight, confident he had managed to sway the marshal. “Well, I think it’d be foolish for us to go up the mountain, certainly. If they’re still up there, they’d see us coming and grow concerned. Then they might actually flee. But, more likely, I’d guess they’ve got some secret route to one of the horse ranches around here and have gone there- which one? Can’t say until someone reports missing horses. But like Simpson said- it’s day work. That means- unless they have reason to want to run- they should be back in town by, oh, sometime this night?”

“You’re saying we should just…wait for them to come to us.”

“They don’t know you’re here. Why won’t they come back to Fox Den?”

Truthfully, Reynold had no idea how long it would take Sam and Flat to return. They seemed keen on earning their freedom, but dealing with a prairie witch and reclaiming a severed arm were not necessarily easy feats. For his part, the sheriff had not had time to work on De La Cruz to keep his end of the deal with the two men- De La Cruz had been keen to hunt them, and not allowed for any down time for Reynold to try and argue their case and request leniency for their sentencing. But perhaps now, if the marshal did decide to wait for Sam and Flat to come back, he would have some downtime to work on De La Cruz.

To the sheriff’s relief, the marshal threw up his hands.

“Fine, if you’re so confident, we’ll wait for Sam and Flat to show up this evening,” he said. Old Moan, apparently disappointed to learn they would not be going anywhere, let out a scream that caused everyone to jump back about three feet.

“I think that’s the sensible decision, marshal,” confirmed Reynold as he got his senses back. “Would you like to wait in my office? It’d be out of this heat.”

Without acknowledging, the marshal made his way into the sheriff’s office. He called back over his shoulder: “For your sake, Reynold, they better turn up tonight or else you and I are going to have problems.”

Reynold gave De La Cruz an insincere smile but said nothing more. He couldn’t. He too had no idea whether or not the two men were making any progress in the caves above.