Second Harvest

A look of grave concern crossed Roy's face as he looked back at his father's empty chair. The colt-45 pistols and holster were plainly not hanging over the back of the chair in their usual fashion. Roy twisted his neck and looked at the fireplace again, then back at the chair. Setting his plate down, Roy walked over to the fireplace and grabbed the Winchester still resting on the steel pins. Roy examined the weapon carefully. He then ratcheted the handle. An unspent round discharged from the top, and another took its place in the firing chamber.

Curious, Roy thought, Pop wouldn't go hunting without his Winchester.

Thaddeus was a skilled hunter and could use a six-shooter, rifle, or knife to kill wild game, and Roy knew this. But it was quite unusual for his father to leave the Winchester at home for this kind of trip. Roy replaced the gun above the fireplace. He ran outside to the barn, and sure enough; his father's horse and saddle were missing. Roy scanned the desert floor below.

As the sun dropped over the horizon, daylight was disappearing fast. Roy scrambled up the mountain behind the log house reaching the top in a matter of minutes. All across the desert floor, Roy could see no campfires or light of any kind. Stars were starting to appear, and the full moon was cresting above the eastern hills.

Where are you Pop? Where did you go? Roy thought. Off in the distance, coyotes howled, and another distant pack cried out in response.

Slowly turning, Roy scanned everything around the top of the mountain. Facing north east, Roy could make out a faint glow of light bending around the edge of the sloping ridge.

"That would be Stanley's home," Roy said to himself.

Roy knew his father was a very capable person, so he tried to dismiss the worried feelings. Roy sat for two hours sweeping the horizon several times in a three hundred and sixty-degree circle. After waiting a long while, Roy was grateful the bright moon provided enough visibility so he could walk down the mountain.

For the next several days, Roy completed his usual chores but took several opportunities to scurry up the mountain top and survey the surrounding area. Each successive trip increased his worry. Finally, on day three, Roy could stand it no more. He saddled his horse and set off toward the Riddle farm. Stanley mounted his horse while Mr. and Mrs. Riddle followed behind the two boys in their buckboard wagon as they headed into town. When the four arrived at the main road, they could see another wagon approaching from the town. A trail of dust roiled behind the wagon. It was Sheriff Dawson and one of his deputies. Roy swallowed a hard lump when he saw the pine box loaded in the rear of the sheriff's wagon.