“I don’t know,” Mole admitted. “I seen him get behind that rock, but I ain’t seen him since.”
“There’s a dry creek bed down there. I seen it when we come through,” Cooter said.
Mole looked toward him. “A dry creek bed? Damn, he could be right on us before we even knew it.”
Cooter shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “It curves away a long time before it ever gets up here.”
No sooner were the words out of Cooter’s mouth than there was a puff of smoke and the bark of a rifle from a clump of bushes not too far distant. The bullet hit the rock right in front of them, then hummed off, but not before shaving off a sliver of lead to kick up into Mole’s face.
“Ow! I been hit, I been hit!” Mole called, slapping his hand to his face. “I been shot right in the jaw!”
Cooter looked at him, then laughed.
“I’d like to know what the hell you think is so funny?” Mole complained.
“You are. You are funny,” Cooter said. “You ain’t been hit. That ain’t nothin’ but a little ole scratch.”
Two more bullets hit the rocks then and chips of stone flew past them.
“I don’t like this,” Mole said. “He’s gettin’ too damn close.” Mole fired a couple of shots toward the bush just below the puff of gun smoke.
“Hey, Mole, look down there,” Cooter said. “Ain’t that his horse comin’ back up the road?”
“Yeah,” Mole said. He giggled. “This is great! Shoot the horse! We’ll just leave the son of a bitch afoot.”
Both men started shooting at the horse, but the animal was still a couple of hundred yards away and slightly downhill. As a result, it wasn’t hit, though the bullets striking the ground nearby caused the horse to turn and run toward the shelter of a bluff, a quarter of a mile away.
“Damn it! We missed!” Mole said.
Another bullet hit the rock, very close beside them.
“Come on, Cooter, let’s get the hell out of here!” Mole shouted. He started running for his own horse.
“Mole! Mole, come back here!” Cooter called, chasing after him.
Seeing the two men start to run, Matt tracked them with his rifle, firing at the second man. That man went down, but the one in the lead made it to his horse. He kicked his horse into motion and in just a few seconds was behind a rocky ledge, out of the line of fire.
“Don’t leave me, you bastard!” the one on the ground shouted. “Don’t you leave me!”
Matt approached the man on the ground, holding his weapon pointed toward him. Seeing him, the man sat up and threw up his hands. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” he cried out. “I’m shot. You can see that I’m bad shot.”
Matt picked up the rifle Cooter had been using, jacked all the bullets out of it—there were only three left—then threw the rifle over the edge of the hill so that it landed more than a hundred feet below.
“Mister, that rifle cost me sixty dollars!” Cooter complained.
“Give me your pistol,” Matt said, holding out his hand. “Butt first,” he added.
“You ain’t goin’ to throw it away too, are you?” Cooter asked as he complied with Matt’s request.
Matt stuck Cooter’s pistol down into his waistband.
“Your name is Cooter?” Matt asked.
Cooter looked surprised. “Yeah, it is. How do you know my name?”
“This is the second time you’ve tried to ambush me, Cooter,” Matt said. “I remember you from before, when you were with Logan. Then, you said Logan paid you. But Logan is dead, so who is paying you now?”
“You got to get me to the doctor,” Cooter said, without answering Matt’s question. “If this wound ain’t treated, I could wind up losin’ my leg.”
“Yes, I suppose you could,” Matt said laconically. Kneeling beside Cooter, he tore the trouser leg away and saw the entry wound. The bullet was still in the leg and the wound was still bleeding.
“Take off your belt,” Matt ordered.
“What do you mean, take off my belt?”
“You want to bleed to death?”
“No.”
“Take off your belt. I’m going to use it to make a tourniquet.”
Cooter took off his belt, and Matt looped it around the leg above the entry wound, then cinched it down tight.”
“Ouch, that hurts.”
“Does it?”
“Do you know what you’re a’ doin’? I ain’t never heard of nothin’ called a tourniquet.”
“It’ll keep you alive, and more than likely let you keep your leg,” Matt said.
“I need a doctor.”
