Dead Man's Cache - Chapter 7 Trapped

"It's your say-so, Black. But there will be a day when it ain't. Don't
forget that."

"And in the meantime you'll ride the Flattops when I give the word?"

Boone nodded sulkily. "I said you had the call, didn't I?"

"Then ride 'em now, damn you. And don't show up in the Cache till
to-morrow night."

MacQueen turned on his heel and strutted away. He was elated at his easy
victory. If he had seen the look that followed him he might not have been
so quiet in his mind.

But on the surface he had cinched his leadership. Boone saddled and rode
out of the Cache without another word to anybody. Sullen and vindictive he
might be, but cowed he certainly seemed. MacQueen celebrated by frequent
trips to his sleeping quarters, where each time he resorted to a bottle
and a glass. No man had ever seen him intoxicated, but there were times
when he drank a good deal for a few days at a stretch. His dissipation
would be followed by months of total abstinence.

All day the man persecuted Melissy with his attentions. His passion was
veiled under a manner of mock deference, of insolent assurance, but as the
hours passed the fears of the girl grew upon her. There were moments when
she turned sick with waves of dread. In the sunshine, under the open sky,
she could hold her own, but under cover of the night's blackness ghastly
horrors would creep toward her to destroy.