He looked back to Hank Rainer. “Hank, my
time was sure to come sooner or later, but I’m
not ready to die. I’m—I’m
too young, Hank. Well, good-by!”
He found gigantic arms spreading before him.
“Andy,” insisted the big man, “it
ain’t too late for me to double-cross ’em.
Let me go out first and you come straight behind me.
They won’t fire; they’ll think I’ve
got a new plan for givin’ you up. When we
get to the circle of ’em, because they’re
all round the cabin, we’ll drive at ’em
together. Come on!”
“Wait a minute. Is Hal Dozier out there?”
“Yes. Oh, go on and curse me, Andy.
I’m cursin’ myself!”
“If he’s there, it’s no use.
But there’s no use two dyin’ when I try
to get through. Only one thing, Hank; if you
want to keep your self-respect don’t take the
reward money.”
“I’ll see it burn first, and I’m
goin’ with you, Andy!”
“You stay where you are; this is my party.
Before the finish of the dance I’m going to
see if some of those sneaks out yonder, lyin’
so snug, won’t like to step right out and do
a caper with me!”
And before the trapper could make a protest he had
drawn back into the horse shed.
There he led the chestnut to the door, and, looking
through the crack, he scanned the surface of the ground.
It was sadly broken and chopped with rocks, but the
gelding might make headway fast enough. It was
a short distance to the trees—twenty-five
to forty yards, perhaps. And if he burst out
of that shed on the back of the horse, spurred to full
speed, he might take the watchers, who perhaps expected
a signal from the trapper before they acted, quite
unawares, and he would be among the sheltering shadows
of the forest while the posse was getting up its guns.
There was an equally good chance that he would ride
straight into a nest of the waiting men, and, even
if he reached the forest, he would be riddled with
bullets.
Now, all these thoughts and all this weighing of the
chances occupied perhaps half a second, while Andrew
stood looking through the crack. Then he swung
into the saddle, leaning far over to the side so that
he would have clearance under the doorway, kicked
open the swinging door, and sent the chestnut leaping
into the night.
If only the night had been dark, if the gelding had
had a fair start; but the moon was bright, and in
the thin mountain air it made a radiance almost as
keen as day and just sufficiently treacherous to delude
a horse, which had been sent unexpectedly out among
rocks by a cruel pair of spurs. At the end of
the first leap the gelding stumbled to his knees with
a crash and snort among the stones. The shock
hurled Andrew forward, but he clung with spurs and
hand, and as he twisted back into the saddle the gelding
rose valiantly and lurched ahead again.
