"What was your game?" he demanded.
"I was follerin' Creech jest to find out where he'd hole up with the girl."
"What's Cordts's game--AFTER he heads Joel Creech?"
"Then he's goin' fer the girl."
Slone scarcely needed to be told all this, but the deliberate words from the
lips of one of Cordts's gang bore a raw, brutal proof of Lucy's peril. And yet
Slone could not bring himself to kill this man in cold blood. He tried, but in
vain.
"Have you got a gun?" called Slone, hoarsely.
"Sure."
"Ride back the other way! . . . If you don't lose me I'll kill you!"
The man stared. Slone saw the color return to his pale face. Then he turned
his horse and rode back out of sight. Slone heard him rolling the stones down
the long, rough slope; and when he felt sure the horse-thief had gotten a fair
start he went back to mount Wildfire in pursuit.
This trailer of Lucy never got back to Lucy's trail--never got away.
But Slone, when that day's hard, deadly pursuit ended, found himself lost in
the canyons. How bitterly he cursed both his weakness in not shooting the man
at sight, and his strength in following him with implacable purpose! For to be
fair, to give the horse-thief a chance for his life, Slone had lost Lucy's
trail.
Pages:
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509