The Covered Wagon eBook

Emerson Hough
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 341 pages of information about The Covered Wagon.

The Covered Wagon eBook

Emerson Hough
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 341 pages of information about The Covered Wagon.

“What difference?” said he.  “What odds?”

“That’s hit!” Again Jackson cut in, inexorable.  “Hit’s no difference to him what he sw’ars, yit he’d bargain even now.  Hit’s about the gal!”

“Hush!” said Banion sternly.  “Not another word!”

“Figure on what it means to you.”  He turned to Woodhull.  “I know what it means to me.  I’ve got to have my own last chance, Woodhull, and I’m saving you for that only.  Is your last chance now as good as mine?  This isn’t mercy—­I’m trading now.  You know what I mean.”

Woodhull had freed his face of the mud as well as he could.  He walked away, stooped at a trickle of water to wash himself.  Jackson quietly rose and kicked the shotgun back farther from the edge.  Woodhull now was near to Banion’s horse, which, after his fashion, always came and stood close to his master.  The butts of the two dragoon revolvers showed in their holsters at the saddle.  When he rose from the muddy margin, shaking his hands as to dry them, he walked toward the horse.  With a sudden leap, without a word, he sprang beyond the horse, with a swift clutch at both revolvers, all done with a catlike quickness not to have been predicted.  He stood clear of the plunging horse, both weapons leveled, covering his two rescuers.

“Evener now!” His teeth bared.  “Promise me!”

Jackson’s deep curse was his answer.  Banion rose, his arms folded.

“You’re a liar and a coward, Sam!” said he.  “Shoot, if you’ve got the nerve!”

Incredible, yet the man was a natural murderer.  His eye narrowed.  There came a swift motion, a double empty click!

“Try again, Sam!” said Banion, taunting him.  “Bad luck—­you landed on an empty!”

He did try again.  Swift as an adder, his hands flung first one and then the other weapon into action.

Click after click, no more; Jackson sat dumb, expecting death.

“They’re all empty, Sam,” said Banion at last as the murderer cast down the revolvers and stood with spread hands.  “For the first time, I didn’t reload.  I didn’t think I’d need them.”

“You can’t blame me!” broke out Woodhull.  “You said it was no quarter!  Isn’t a prisoner justified in trying to escape?”

“You’ve not escaped,” said Banion, coldly now.  “Rope him, Jackson.”

The thin, soft hide cord fell around the man’s neck, tightened.

“Now,” shrilled Jackson, “I’ll give ye a dog’s death!”

He sprang to the side of the black Spaniard, who by training had settled back, tightening the rope.

CHAPTER XXII

A SECRET OF TWO

Catching the intention of the maddened man, now bent only on swift revenge, Banion sprang to the head of his horse, flinging out an arm to keep Jackson out of the saddle.  The horse, frightened at the stubborn struggle between the two, sprang away.  Woodhull was pulled flat by the rope about his neck, nor could he loosen it now with his hands, for the horse kept steadily away.  Any instant and he might be off in a mad flight, dragging the man to his death.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
The Covered Wagon from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.