Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 9, 2025
Another heavy report interrupted Slone. The bullet missed, but Slone made a pretense, a convulsive flop, as if struck. "Get the rifle! Quick!" he called. But Lucy misunderstood his ruse to deceive Cordts. She thought he had been hit again. She ran to the fallen Wildfire and jerked the rifle from its sheath. Cordts had begun to climb round a ledge, evidently a short cut to get down and across.
"Down in the canyons, where no one can track me," he said. "It'll be hard goin' fer you, child, an' hard fare.... But I'm strikin' at Bostil's heart as he has broken mine. I'll send him word. An' I'll tell him if he won't give his hosses thet I'll sell you to Cordts." "Oh, Creech but you wouldn't!" she whispered, and her hand went to his brawny arm.
She was unconscious of her effect upon the rider, who gazed at her with a new-born light in his eyes. "You can ride him. I reckon I'd like to see that race just as much as Bostil or Cordts or any man.... An' see here, girl, Wildfire can beat this gray racer of your father's." "Oh!" cried Lucy. "Wildfire can beat the King," repeated the rider, intensely.
"An' whoever he was grabbed Lucy up made off with her?" asked Bostil. "Plain as if we seen it done!" exclaimed Holley. There was fire in the clear, hawk eyes. "Cordts!" cried Bostil, hoarsely. "Mebbe mebbe. But thet ain't my idee.... Come on." Holley went so fast he almost ran, and he got ahead of Bostil. Finally several hundred yards out in the sage he halted, and again dropped to his knees.
This discovery unnerved Slone. It meant so much. And if Slone had any hope or reason to doubt that these strangers had taken up the trail for good, the next few miles dispelled it. They were trailing Creech. Suddenly Slone gave a wild start, which made Wildfire plunge. "CORDTS!" whispered Slone and the cold sweat oozed out of every pore. These canyons were the hiding-places of the horse-thief.
Here were assembled his neighbors and visitors actively interested in the races, and also the important Indians of both tribes, all waiting for him. As Bostil dismounted, throwing the bridle to a rider, he saw a face that suddenly froze the thrilling delight of the moment. A tall, gaunt man with cavernous black eyes and huge, drooping black mustache fronted him and seemed waiting. Cordts!
Bostil had forgotten. Instinctively Bostil stood on guard. For years he had prepared himself for the moment when he would come face to face with this noted horse-thief. "Bostil, how are you?" said Cordts. He appeared pleasant, and certainly grateful for being permitted to come there. From his left hand hung a belt containing two heavy guns. "Hello, Cordts," replied Bostil, slowly unbending.
He was not fifty yards distant, plainly recognizable, tall, gaunt, sardonic. He held the half-leveled gun ready as if waiting. He had waited there in ambush. The clouds of smoke rolled up above him, hiding the crags. "CORDTS!" Bostil's blood spoke in the girl's thrilling cry. "Hunch down, Lucy!" cried Slone. "Pull my rifle.... I'm only winged not hurt. Hurry! He's goin' "
And sight of Joel's face suddenly made her weak. "What'd you say?" demanded Creech. "I'd a good reason to run the hosses up-hill thet's what!" snapped Joel. He was frothing at the mouth. "Out with it!" "Cordts an' Hutch!" "What?" roared Creech, grasping the pale Joel and shaking him. "Cordts an' Hutch rode in behind me down at thet cross canyon. They seen me. An' they're after me hard!"
Creech went out after Plume, but the excited and wary horse eluded him. Then Creech gave up, caught his own mustangs, and hurried into camp. "Lucy, if Cordts gits after Sarch an' the others it'll be as well fer us," he said. Soon they were riding into the forest, Creech leading, Lucy in the center, and Joel coming behind on the King. Two unsaddled mustangs carrying the packs were driven in front.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking