Fight At Four Corners

By: Nelson C. Nye

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Synopsis: Twisting in the saddle for a quick look behind I found another smudge there—this undeniably dust. Swiveling round I found Bill Hazel’s gaze locked in the same direction. Edwardo came pelting back to swing his mount alongside Surefoot. “San Carlos Apaches!” “How do you know?” I rasped at him, jolted. “In here I know,” he cried, thumping his chest. “No Navajos there—renegade Apaches ride under that dust!” . Probably took one Indian to recognize another. “Come on,” I growled, “let’s get these hides movin’.” With any luck, I thought, my own ponies bred for speed should be able to keep ahead of them. . . .