He took his time going over the area, studying the tracks of men and horses who’d passed this way over recent days.
He found where the outlaws had hidden their horses and followed their tracks to another spot, where it looked like Conn Sullivan and Bill Sheffield, each trailing a spare mount, had stowed their horses.
He also found where their boot tracks had come downhill to the mine.
So they stashed their horses up yonder then snuck down here, planning to take Toole and the others by surprise.
A risky plan, that, the sort of thing a man might do if he was emotionally involved, like Conn Sullivan no doubt had been.
They had gone into the mine, but they hadn’t come back out, because they hadn’t counted on the other set of tracks that ran up to the door and then jumped off to one side. This would have been Toole or one of his men tossing dynamite into the mine after them.
Mayfield followed these tracks back out to where Toole and his friends had hidden behind a heap of tailings, waiting for Sullivan and Sheffield to enter the mine and fall into their deadly trap.
Mayfield looked back and forth from the tracks to the collapsed mine, and everything was so clear, it was almost like watching it happen.
So Toole had known they were coming.
Probably read the paper, reckoned Blake had sold him out, then waited for Sullivan and Sheffield to show up.
Fools.
He’d figured Sullivan would get himself killed.
From everything he’d heard, the man was good with a gun, but sometimes, that wasn’t enough. He had clearly been in over his head here.
With men like Toole, you had to be cautious. You had to bide your time, keep an eye, and wait for them to slip up.
Then strike and wipe them out.
Sullivan and Sheffield had rushed things and gotten themselves killed.
Well, Mayfield would be careful not to make the same mistake.
First thing he had to do was figure out where they’d gone.
Probably hopped the Rio Grande line, he figured.
From Salida, they could have caught the morning train. By now, they would be halfway to wherever they wanted to go next.
Bold move, traveling through Fairplay, but Toole would be riding high now.
Such a risk would likely amuse him.
After this victory, he was probably feeling unstoppable. And in a little burg like Fairplay with only Marshal Andrews to brace them, he probably was.
Mayfield just hoped Toole kept feeling that way, because he would be less likely to cover his tracks and might take chances that would get him killed. Next, he’d probably try robbing a bank or a train.
The Tooles of the world always ended up trying to rob a bank or a train.
Probably a bank.
Hopefully, they’d get gunned down in the process and save Mayfield having to track them all over God’s green earth.
Mayfield cast one more glance at the collapsed mine and shook his head.
Fools.
Then he rode to Salida, where he went straight to the Rio Grande train station.
