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Updated: May 22, 2025
The head of the big rattlesnake lay flat on the sand, less than eight inches before his face. It had lashed out to the full length of the thong. Had the thong broken, or even had its loop about the reptile's neck slipped, the poison-dripping fangs must have lashed Lennon's face. Intense as were the heat and dryness of the cañon bed, Lennon suddenly felt his skin bathed in clammy sweat.
The change of position brought the top of his head very close to the snake. But he trusted to Slade's avarice to see that he escaped the fangs. Slade and the Indians had been gloating upon the struggles and terror of their victim. At Lennon's quieting down the trader burst into a derisive laugh. "Sort of wilted a'ready, huh?" he jeered. "Well, you're wise to take a rest while you still got time.
The girl clasped his left arm about her neck and rushed him out beside the pony. "Brace up!" she breathlessly implored him. "Grip hold of his mane with your good hand. We'll have to hit out. The broncs are coming." She ran back to snatch up Lennon's sombrero, the rifles and one of the canteens. The other had been emptied into Lennon's face.
You shall have your ten thousand as soon as you rid the Farleys of Cochise and his gang. That was the agreement." The trader thwacked his beefy hand down on Lennon's shoulder. "That's a go, pard. I own up honest I figgered your talk of copper was all bunk. But I aim to stand by my bargains. Only you're sure now this here lode ain't no blind, are you?
The steel-sinewed fingers that were clutched about Lennon's wrist opened. "All dam' good joke arm handshake," the Apache sought to explain away his treacherous attempt. "Make sure you got nerve. Sabe? Guess I got to go. Good-bye." "Oh, do stay and visit a bit longer," Carmena smilingly urged him. "We can talk a while with you and Pete. But the others may as well be starting, don't you think?"
A voice shrilled in Lennon's ear: "Hold still! Hold still!" Carmena stooped over the writhing monster to thrust the muzzle of a small revolver against the side of its lower jaw. The bullet shattered the jaw and blew it half off. A vigorous kick hurled the now harmless reptile aside. Lennon had started to raise himself to a sitting position.
But his moodiness had company. Elsie sat at table tearful-eyed and drooping. Carmena's eyes were somber and her expression was hard. In reply to Lennon's polite inquiry for Farley she coldly replied that her father was not hungry. Through one of the outer slit windows of the living room Lennon saw a thin column of smoke down the valley toward the corral.
She had not fainted. Her dark eyes gazed up at Lennon, wide with an anguish of self-reproach. "Used up can't make it," she whispered. "No chance for both after sun-up. Ride hard toward Triple Butte." Lennon's reply was to open the canteen and hold it to her lips. Only a few drops were left when she managed to thrust it away.
His bridle reins and rifle were loosely held in his bandaged right. Carmena was thrusting her rifle into its saddle-sheath. Instead of clasping hands, palm to palm, Cochise clutched Lennon's wrist in a grip that almost crushed the bones. His other hand closed on the hilt of a knife. "Sit still, Jack," murmured Carmena. The warning was needless.
Carmena met his proposal with a chuckle that brought a flush into Lennon's lean face. But her troubled eyes had cleared and there was a note of relief underlying her mirth. "What's the matter with you, too, keeping under cover?" she rallied. "Besides, we don't go to the head of the valley. We slant up to the left through that notch in the ridge."
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