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The seconds all were on their feet, scarce breathing. They pushed in sheer test, and each found the other's stark strength. Yet Banion's breath still came even, his eye betokened no anxiety of the issue. Both were bloody now, clothing and all. Then in a flash the scales turned against the challenger a l'outrance.
The old halfbreed style of loading, too, was rapid enough to give Jackson as many buffalo as Bridger's bow had claimed before his horse fell back and the dust cloud lessened in the distance. The great speed and bottom of Banion's horse, as well as the beast's savage courage and hunting instinct, kept him in longer touch with the running game. Banion was in no haste.
Jackson quietly rose and kicked the shotgun back farther from the edge. Woodhull now was near to Banion's horse, which, after his fashion, always came and stood close to his master. The butts of the two dragoon revolvers showed in their holsters at the saddle. When he rose from the muddy margin, shaking his hands as to dry them, he walked toward the horse.
Molly advanced to where Banion's horse stood, nodding and pawing restively as was his wont. She stroked his nose, patted his sweat-soaked neck. "What a pretty horse you have, major," she said. "What's his name?" "I call him Pronto," smiled Banion. "That means sudden." "He fits the name. May I ride him?" "What? You ride him?" "Yes, surely. I'd love to. I can ride anything.
Her heart almost stopped with it. Some undiscovered sense warned her, cried aloud to her. She faced the door, wide-eyed, as it was flung open. "Molly!" Will Banion's deep-toned voice told her all the rest. In terror, her hands to her face, she stood an instant, then sprang toward him, her voice almost a wail in its incredulous joy. "Will! Will! Oh, Will! Oh! Oh!" "Molly!" They both paused.
And he told me other things too. Banion's a traitor, to split the train. We can spare all such." "Can we?" rejoined his wife. "I sort of thought " "Never mind what you thought. He's one of the unruly, servigerous sort; can't take orders, and a trouble maker always. We'll show that outfit. I've ordered three more scows built and the seams calked in the wagon boxes."
When they do come they'll surround ye an' try to keep ye back from the water till the stock goes crazy. Lay low an' don't let a Injun inside. Hit may be a hull day, er more, but when Banion's men come they'll come a-runnin' allowin' I git through to tell 'em. "Dig in a trench all the way aroun'," he added finally. "Put the womern an' children in hit an' pile up all yer flour on top.
You will remember the shoulder of a man who fought with you? You'll do what you can now at any cost?" "What cost?" demanded Woodhull thickly. Banion's own white teeth showed as he smiled. "What difference?" said he. "What odds?" "That's hit!" Again Jackson cut in, inexorable. "Hit's no difference to him what he sw'ars, yit he'd bargain even now. Hit's about the gal!" "Hush!" said Banion sternly.
The two old mountain men flung off and stood hand in hand before Banion had rescued the precious lead line and brought on the little train. Bridger threw his hat on the ground, flung down his rifle and cast his stoic calm aside. Both his hands caught Banion's and his face beamed, breaking into a thousand lines. "Boy, hit's you, then! I knowed yer hoss he has no like in these parts.
Jackson won't let you have his horse. My own never carried a woman but once, and he's never carried a coward at all. Jackson shall not have the rope. I'll not let him kill you." "What do you mean?" demanded the prisoner, not without his effrontery. The blood came back to Banion's face, his control breaking. "I mean for you to walk, trot, gallop, damn you!
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