[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
came forward to join Ladd, and the two spend a long, uninterrupted moment
studying the arroyo. A hoarse laugh, faint yet distinct, floated up on the
cool wind.
"Well, Laddy, what're you makin' of that outfit?" inquired Lash, speaking
softly.
Page 38
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Same as any of them raider outfits," replied Ladd. "They're across the line
for beef. But they'll run off any good stock. As hoss thieves these rebels
have got 'em all beat. That outfit is waitin' till it's late. There's a
ranch up the arroyo."
Gale heard the first speaker curse under his breath.
"Sure, I feel the same," said Ladd. "But we've got a girl an'
the young man to look after, not to mention our pack outfit.
An' we're huntin' for a job, not a fight, old hoss. Keep on your chaps!"
"Nothin' to it but head south for the Rio Forlorn."
"You're talkin' sense now, Jim. I wish we'd headed that way long ago. But it
ain't strange I'd want to travel away from the border, thinkin' of the girl.
Jim, we can't go round this Greaser outfit an' strike the road again. Too
rough. So we'll have to give up gettin' to San Felipe."
"Perhaps it's just as well, Laddy. Rio Forlorn is on the border line, but
it's country where these rebels ain't been yet."
"Wait till they learn of the oasis an' Beldin's hosses!" exclaimed
Laddy. "I'm not anticipatin' peace anywhere along the border, Jim. but we
can't go ahead; we can't go back."
"What'll we do, Laddy" It's a hike to Beldin's ranch. An' if we get there in
daylight some Greaser will see the girl before Beldin'
can hide her. It'll get talked about. The news'll travel to Casita like sage
balls before the wind."
"Shore we won't ride into Rio Forlorn in the daytime. Let's slip the packs,
Jim. We can hid them off in the cactus an' come back after them. With the
young man ridin' we--"
The whispering was interrupted by a loud ringing neigh that whistled up from
the arroyo. One of the horses had scented the travelers on the ridge top.
The indifference of the Mexicans changed to attention.
Ladd and Lash turned back and led the horses into the first opening on the
south side of the road. There was nothing more said at the moment, and
manifestly the cowboys were in a hurry. Gale had to run in the open places to
keep up. When they did stop it was welcome to Gale, for he had begun to fall
behind.
The packs were slipped, securely tied and hidden in a mesquite clump. Ladd
strapped a blanket around one of the horses. His next move was to take off
his chaps.
"Gale, you're wearin' boots, an' by liftin' your feet you can beat the
cactus," he whispered. "But the--the--Miss Castaneda, she'll be torn all to
pieces unless she puts these on. Please tell her--an' hurry."
Dick took the caps, and, going up to Mercedes, he explained the situation.
She laughed, evidently at his embarrassed earnestness, and slipped out of the
saddle.
"Senor, chapparejos and I are not strangers," she said.
Deftly and promptly she equipped herself, and then Gale helped her into the
Page 39
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
saddle, called to her horse, and started off. Lash directed Gale to mount the
other saddled horse and go next.
Dick had not ridden a hundred yards behind the trotting leaders before he had
sundry painful encounters with reaching cactus arms.
The horse missed these by a narrow margin. Dick's knees appeared to be in
line, and it be came necessary for him to lift them high and let his boots
take the onslaught of the spikes. He was at home in the saddle, and the
accomplishment was about the only one he possessed that had been of any
advantage during his sojourn in the West.
Ladd pursued a zigzag course southward across the desert, trotting down the
aisles, cantering in wide, bare patches, walking through the clumps of cacti.
The desert seemed all of a sameness to
Dick--a wilderness of rocks and jagged growths hemmed in by
lowering ranges, always looking close, yet never growing any nearer.
The moon slanted back toward the west, losing its white radiance, and the
gloom of the earlier evening began to creep into the washes and to darken
under the mesas. By and by Ladd entered an arroyo, and here the travelers
turned and twisted with the meanderings of a dry stream bed. At the head of a
canyon they had to take once more to the rougher ground. Always it led down,
always it grew rougher, more rolling, with wider bare spaces, always the black
ranges loomed close.
Gale became chilled to the bone, and his clothes were damp and cold.
His knees smarted from the wounds of the poisoned thorns, and his right hand
was either swollen stiff or too numb to move. Moreover, he was tiring. The
excitement, the long walk, the miles on miles of jolting trot--these had
wearied him. Mercedes must be made of steel, he thought, to stand all that
she had been subjected to and yet, when the stars were paling and dawn perhaps
not far away, stay in the saddle.
So Dick Gale rode on, drowsier for each mile, and more and more giving the
horse a choice of ground. Sometimes a prod from a murderous spine roused
Dick. A grayness had blotted out the waning moon in the west and the clear,
dark, starry sky overhead. Once when Gale, thinking to fight his weariness,
raised his head, he saw that one of the horses in the lead was riderless.
Ladd was carrying [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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came forward to join Ladd, and the two spend a long, uninterrupted moment
studying the arroyo. A hoarse laugh, faint yet distinct, floated up on the
cool wind.
"Well, Laddy, what're you makin' of that outfit?" inquired Lash, speaking
softly.
Page 38
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Same as any of them raider outfits," replied Ladd. "They're across the line
for beef. But they'll run off any good stock. As hoss thieves these rebels
have got 'em all beat. That outfit is waitin' till it's late. There's a
ranch up the arroyo."
Gale heard the first speaker curse under his breath.
"Sure, I feel the same," said Ladd. "But we've got a girl an'
the young man to look after, not to mention our pack outfit.
An' we're huntin' for a job, not a fight, old hoss. Keep on your chaps!"
"Nothin' to it but head south for the Rio Forlorn."
"You're talkin' sense now, Jim. I wish we'd headed that way long ago. But it
ain't strange I'd want to travel away from the border, thinkin' of the girl.
Jim, we can't go round this Greaser outfit an' strike the road again. Too
rough. So we'll have to give up gettin' to San Felipe."
"Perhaps it's just as well, Laddy. Rio Forlorn is on the border line, but
it's country where these rebels ain't been yet."
"Wait till they learn of the oasis an' Beldin's hosses!" exclaimed
Laddy. "I'm not anticipatin' peace anywhere along the border, Jim. but we
can't go ahead; we can't go back."
"What'll we do, Laddy" It's a hike to Beldin's ranch. An' if we get there in
daylight some Greaser will see the girl before Beldin'
can hide her. It'll get talked about. The news'll travel to Casita like sage
balls before the wind."
"Shore we won't ride into Rio Forlorn in the daytime. Let's slip the packs,
Jim. We can hid them off in the cactus an' come back after them. With the
young man ridin' we--"
The whispering was interrupted by a loud ringing neigh that whistled up from
the arroyo. One of the horses had scented the travelers on the ridge top.
The indifference of the Mexicans changed to attention.
Ladd and Lash turned back and led the horses into the first opening on the
south side of the road. There was nothing more said at the moment, and
manifestly the cowboys were in a hurry. Gale had to run in the open places to
keep up. When they did stop it was welcome to Gale, for he had begun to fall
behind.
The packs were slipped, securely tied and hidden in a mesquite clump. Ladd
strapped a blanket around one of the horses. His next move was to take off
his chaps.
"Gale, you're wearin' boots, an' by liftin' your feet you can beat the
cactus," he whispered. "But the--the--Miss Castaneda, she'll be torn all to
pieces unless she puts these on. Please tell her--an' hurry."
Dick took the caps, and, going up to Mercedes, he explained the situation.
She laughed, evidently at his embarrassed earnestness, and slipped out of the
saddle.
"Senor, chapparejos and I are not strangers," she said.
Deftly and promptly she equipped herself, and then Gale helped her into the
Page 39
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
saddle, called to her horse, and started off. Lash directed Gale to mount the
other saddled horse and go next.
Dick had not ridden a hundred yards behind the trotting leaders before he had
sundry painful encounters with reaching cactus arms.
The horse missed these by a narrow margin. Dick's knees appeared to be in
line, and it be came necessary for him to lift them high and let his boots
take the onslaught of the spikes. He was at home in the saddle, and the
accomplishment was about the only one he possessed that had been of any
advantage during his sojourn in the West.
Ladd pursued a zigzag course southward across the desert, trotting down the
aisles, cantering in wide, bare patches, walking through the clumps of cacti.
The desert seemed all of a sameness to
Dick--a wilderness of rocks and jagged growths hemmed in by
lowering ranges, always looking close, yet never growing any nearer.
The moon slanted back toward the west, losing its white radiance, and the
gloom of the earlier evening began to creep into the washes and to darken
under the mesas. By and by Ladd entered an arroyo, and here the travelers
turned and twisted with the meanderings of a dry stream bed. At the head of a
canyon they had to take once more to the rougher ground. Always it led down,
always it grew rougher, more rolling, with wider bare spaces, always the black
ranges loomed close.
Gale became chilled to the bone, and his clothes were damp and cold.
His knees smarted from the wounds of the poisoned thorns, and his right hand
was either swollen stiff or too numb to move. Moreover, he was tiring. The
excitement, the long walk, the miles on miles of jolting trot--these had
wearied him. Mercedes must be made of steel, he thought, to stand all that
she had been subjected to and yet, when the stars were paling and dawn perhaps
not far away, stay in the saddle.
So Dick Gale rode on, drowsier for each mile, and more and more giving the
horse a choice of ground. Sometimes a prod from a murderous spine roused
Dick. A grayness had blotted out the waning moon in the west and the clear,
dark, starry sky overhead. Once when Gale, thinking to fight his weariness,
raised his head, he saw that one of the horses in the lead was riderless.
Ladd was carrying [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]