Are you
fellers goin' back on me?"
"Not this chicken," a voice muttered, and a white form whipped his
horse over to Wambush's. "I'm with you," said another. Then there was
a clamor of voices, and all the gang gathered round Wambush. He
chuckled and swore softly. "That's the stuff!" he said. "Them's
Cohutta men a-talkin'; you kin bet yore sweet life."
Harriet turned to Westerfelt. "They are drinking," she said. "Haven't
you got a pistol?"
"No."
"You stay here then; don't let them see you; I'm going up-stairs and
speak to Toot from the veranda. It's the only chance. Sh!"
She did not wait for a reply, but opened the door noiselessly and went
out into the hall. He heard the rustle of her skirts as she went up
the stairs. A moment later the door leading to the veranda on the
floor above opened with a creak, and she appeared over the heads of the
band.
"Toot! Toot Wambush!" she called out in a clear, steady voice. "I
want to speak to you!"
Wambush, in a spirit of bravado, had just ridden on to the veranda, and
could hear nothing above the thunderous clatter of his horse's hoofs on
the floor.
Pages:
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110