[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Yankee
one time who wouldn't tell us where he'd hidden his proud-ofs. He told us
soon
enough, but pa let the fire burn for awhile just to teach him a lesson."
They were well into the trees before Galloway saw his chance. Suddenly he
darted
to one side and ducked around a tree, taking a quick turn of the rope around
the
bole. The move was so sudden that Curly, who only had dallied the rope around
the saddle horn was caught unawares. Curly was no cowhand, although he had
worked cattle to some extent, and he was careless by nature. Galloway's quick
move in snubbing the rope around the tree not only brought his horse up
short,
but gave Galloway the instant he needed. Holding the snub tight with one hand
he
hastily kicked and shook the rope loose.
Curly wheeled his horse with a yell, but Galloway had ducked around a tree
with
others growing close beside it and it took Curly just a minute to find a hole
through which he could guide his horse.
Curly grabbed for his pistol but a branch interfered. Galloway shook off the
Page 115
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
rope and ducking around the tree, jumped for Curly. Trying to pull back from
the
tangle in which he found himself, Curly felt a sudden heave on his stirrup as
his leg was thrown up. He started to fall and tried to grab a secure hold on
the
pommel, but Galloway hacked at the fingers and Curly lost his grip.
He hit the ground with one foot caught in a stirrup and the frightened horse,
backing and rearing, swung out of the trees and broke into a run.
Galloway staggered back, caught himself against a tree and slowly recovered
himself. The horse went racing back toward the town, with Curly bouncing at
every jump.
Glancing quickly around, he found Curly's pistol where it had fallen among
the
leaves. Hastily he checked the cylinder. Only three cartridges. Damn a man
who
didn't reload!
Holding the pistol in his hand Galloway started back for Shalako, only some
two
hundred yards away. He limped as he walked for his leg had been badly bruised
when he had been dragged over the edge of the boardwalk.
He came into the head of the street and saw Curly's horse stopped in front of
the saloon. Alf and the other Dunn were unfastening the rope. Berglund was
kneeling beside Curly.
Galloway was within forty yards of them before Alf looked up. "I want my gun,
Alf. Take it out mighty careful and put it down on the boardwalk."
Alf Dunn looked at Galloway. Hatred burned within him. At his feet lay Curly,
dragged, torn and battered, injured badly, possibly dying. Always before the
Dunns had had it their own way, and his hatred was filled with frustration
and
disbelief. This had never happened to the Dunns, it could not be happening.
Success corrodes, and the Dunns always brutal, always cruel, always fighting
a
hit-and-run battle had enjoyed success. Before their enemies could gird
against
Page 116
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
them they were gone, miles away and with no idea of returning. In those swift
strikes at unprepared ranches or communities they had been swaggering,
triumphant and confident. Then Curly had been whipped by Flagan Sackett, a
man
who had just gone through a punishing ordeal, Jobe had been wounded, and the
old
Bull himself ignored. Now Curly had been terribly hurt in their moment of
triumph, and here came the man who had done it, ordering him to throw down
his
pistol. It was more than he could take. Alf said, "Pete, let's take him."
Berglund left the ground in a long dive that carried him across the body of
Curly and into the sparse grass beyond.
Alf and Pete with one accord had gone for their guns. Galloway's gun came up
and
fired. Alf turned halfway around and Galloway fired a second tune. Alf Dunn
backed up and sat down and Galloway's gun covered Pete even as Pete's gun
came
up. "Don't do it," Galloway said. "I'll kill you."
"And if he don't," a new voice said, "I will!" Berglund, sitting up now that
he
was out of gun range, looked at the shaggy-haired big man in the faded red
shirt
and the black vest. A sheepskin coat was tied back of the saddle and there
was a
Winchester in the boot. The big man looked unkempt and almost unreal, for
there
was about him a wild savagery that was somehow shocking.
Galloway backed off a few steps to where he could see the newcomer. "Howdy,
Logan! Nice to see you!"
He swung his eyes back to Pete. "You'd better take Curly home," he said, "and
you tell Bull Dunn we want no more trouble. You brought it to us and by now
you
ought to have your belly full."
Pete snorted. "You think the old Bull will take this? He'll come in here
a-foggin' it, mind you."
Page 117 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]