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Within eight feet of him The Spider's gun roared again. Gary's body jerked stiff at the shock and then slowly collapsed. The fourth man, Longtree, with his hands above his head, begged The Spider not to kill his old pal! The Spider's face, horribly distorted, venomous as a snake's, colorless and glistening with sweat, twisted queerly as he spoke: "Kill you, you damned coyote?"
Sometimes they were caught, first by one army and then by another, and their goods or money confiscated, still they kept up their blockade running. I was informed by one of General Gary's staff officers since the war, that while they were doing outpost duty on the lower James, Jews came in daily with passports from the authorities at Richmond, authorizing them to pass the lines.
Pete stepped from behind the bush. Gary was facing toward the cabin. Cotton was squatting near by smoking a cigarette. "Tell him," said Pete. "I want to know myself." "What's it to you?" snarled Gary, and he stepped back. Gary's very attitude was a challenge. Pete knew that he could not drop his rope and pull his own gun quick enough to save himself.
Yet despite all logic of justice as against law he could see Gary's hand clutching against his chest, his staring eyes, and the red ooze starting through those tense fingers Pete reasoned that had he not been so skilled and quick with a gun, he would be in Gary's place now. As it was, he was alive and had a good horse between his knees.
A large, rather soft package, marked with Aunt Gary's name, unfolded a riding cap to match; at least, it was exceeding rich and stylish, with a black feather that waved away in curves that called forth Margaret's delighted admiration. Nevertheless, I wondered, while I admired, at my Aunt Gary's choice of a present. I had a straw hat which served all purposes, even of elegance, for my notions.
They knew, but hardly expected that Pete would take up Gary's general challenge. He was but a youth hardly more than a boy. The camp was somewhat surprised when Pete got to his feet and stepped toward the fire. "I'm the one that said you was lucky Montoya wasn't here," he asserted.
Pete, stiff with fear, saw them turn and clump from the cabin. As they left he heard one say something which he never forgot. "Must 'a' been Gary's shot that downed the o1e man. Gary knowed the layout and where he could get a line on the window." Pete dropped to the floor and crawled over to Annersley. "Pop!" he called again and again.
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