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McHale yelled as he hit the leather a wild, ear-splitting screech, the old trouble cry of his kind in days gone by and both horses leaped frantically into motion, accomplishing the feat peculiar to cow and polo ponies of attaining their maximum speed in three jumps. They surged around the medley of tents and shacks, and came into the open neck and neck, running like singed cats.
The windings of the coulée hid them from view. Suddenly Casey became aware that there was no one ahead that he and McHale were riding madly, to no purpose. At the same moment the latter made the like discovery. Their horses' hoofs slid and cut grooves in the earth as the riders dragged them to a halt.
"There's mighty little style about me, Bob," he said. "I'm democratic a lot. Havin' drinks sent up to a private room looks to me a heap like throwin' on dog." "I asked you," said Shiller. "It's my house. The drinks are on me." "I spoke of the dust," McHale reminded him. "That makes it my drinks. And then I done asked a man to meet me in the bar. I wouldn't like to keep him waitin'."
And what did you want with McHale?" "Well," Dade answered calmly, "we figured that he'd help us take the stretch out of a new rope." "Nobody else would do?" queried Casey. "We wanted him." "I see. And had our mutual friend, Mr. Cross, anything to do with your desire? By the way, how is Mr. Cross? Or should I say the late Mr. Cross?" "Not yet," Dade replied. "He's got a chance."
"Clear case of self-defence, isn't it, Wade?" "Looks that way, if the evidence corroborates what he says," the lawyer replied. "Are you sure he shot first, Tom?" "Better put it he meant to shoot first," McHale responded. "Naturally, I ain't standin' round waitin' for no sightin' shots. It comes close to an even break." "That's good enough," Wade declared.
Usually considerate, in the excitement of the moment they used the brutal methods of the "buster." "They've doubled back on us!" cried McHale. "Cut through them cottonwoods somewheres and let us go by a-hellin'. Fooled us, by glory, like we was a pair of hide-an'-go-seek kids. Yes there they go now! Look up by the top past that cut bank!" He lifted his rifle as he spoke.
The other instantly looked over his shoulder. McHale laughed. "You're an old-timer," he said to the gray-eyed man; "but him" he jerked a contemptuous thumb at the second "it's a wonder to me he ever growed up. Don't you do it no more, friend. Don't you never take your eyes off a man you've called a fool, or maybe the next thing they beholds is the Promised Land!"
"What's the use of snapshootin' at that range? You can't hit nothin'." "You never know what luck you'll have," said Sandy. "I couldn't draw a sight with them moving in the brush. How many did you count?" "Five near as I could make it." "Say, how'd it be if I went after them?" "It'd be one durn young fool the less," McHale replied. "You want to know when you're well off. Don't stand up yet.
"They'll have to make a stagger at it, or wait," McHale responded seriously. It was dusk when he headed westward, old Baldy, lightly packed, trotting meekly at the tail of his saddle horse. Casey, coming back from a final word with him, met Clyde strolling toward the young orchard. He fell into step. "Nice evening." She regarded him quizzically. "I won't ask a single question.
"If his actions left no doubt of his hostile purpose in your mind you were justified in protecting yourself." "They sure didn't," said McHale. "He's out to down me, and I know it. There ain't no Alphonse and Gaston stuff when he comes boilin' out, pullin' his gun. I just sail in to get action while I got the chance." "Exactly," said Wade. "Well, Tom, you'll be arrested, of course.
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