leather object and he knew that it was Arch Deland's boot.
“Arch, are you all right?”
He crawled closer and now he felt the stickiness of warm blood just below the buckle of the deputy's cartridge belt. He took a limp hand but felt no pulse. He pressed his ear to Deland's chest and heard the beat. Owen sagged for a moment on his hands and knees while relief washed over him.
“Owen.”
The voice was weak and sounded far away, and it was the most welcome sound Owen had ever heard. “Yes, Arch, it's Owen.”
“Is it all over?”
“Not by a long shot!” And he made himself laugh. “You were born to die in bed!”
“I mean the fight. Is it over yet?”
“Not yet, but I think we got one of them. They must be part of the Brunner gang. We just stumbled onto them.”
The deputy tried to laugh and ended by coughing. “I guess you've got things to do. Don't let me keep you.”
“I'll move you up the hill a bit,” Owen said quietly. “Behind the boulder.”
But a thin, involuntary sound escaped Deland's throat when Owen tried to lift him. Very gently Owen laid the old deputy back down. “On second thought, maybe you'll be better off right where you are. We'll have this thing cleaned up in a minute; then we'll take care of you right.”
“Sure,” Deland said. “Don't worry about me.”
Owen heard the bleakness in that weak voice and felt sick with helplessness. Until this moment he had tried to keep his mind clear and free of emotion, but now he was seized with an anger blacker than the night. He smoothed the ground under Arch's head and tried to make him a bit more comfortable, and that was all he could do. There was very little that he could do about the wound; the bullet had come from a rifle and the hole was small and clean and the bleeding had already stopped.
“Take it easy, Arch,” Owen said tightly.. “I'll try not to drag this out.” Then he picked up the deputy's carbine and crawled back up the hill to where Dunc Lester was waiting.
“How is he?” Dunc asked.
“Rifle bullet in the groin. I couldn't tell how bad.”
Dunc cursed again. “Goddamn it, I ought to of remembered! I saw them when I was out scoutin', but I forgot to tell you.”
“Are they Brunner's men? Did you recognize them?”
“Sure, they're Wes Longstreet and two boys from up toward the Verdigris. Wes is one of Ike's top hands; been with him ever since the gang was formed.”
“Where are they now?”
“They haven't moved, far as I can tell. The last gun flash came from about thirty yards straight ahead.” He sounded vaguely uneasy, but not frightened. “I can't say I like this much. Ike's outposts can't miss hearin' all this shootin', and pretty soon they're goin' to be comin' out to see what it's all about.”
“They can't find us in the dark.”
“You don't have to see too well to locate a battle.”
“Well,” Owen said grimly, “we'll have to end the battle.” He checked the carbine and reloaded his revolver. “You stay here. I'll be back before long.” Dunc started to protest, but Owen had already slipped around the boulder and disappeared in the brush.
The guns up ahead ripped the night wide open. Quickly Dunc blasted his shotgun at the flashes, then grabbed his ancient revolver and emptied it. Suddenly it was quiet again.
Dunc felt weak, and the sweat was cold on his face. He peered into the darkness until his eyes began to jump, but there was no sign of the marshal anywhere. What the hell's he tryin' to do? Dunc raged to himself. Does he
The seconds dragged slowly by and little ripples of nervousness crawled up Dunc Lester's back as he reloaded shotgun and revolver. Seconds were getting more precious all the time. Why did I ever get in this mess in the first place? he wondered angrily. And for a moment his cornered savagery went out in all directions, and he hated Toller and Ike Brunner alike. Now that fool marshal's got himself killed, he thought. And the old deputy's shot in the groin and can't move. What the hell am I goin' to do?
Then his sharp, trained ears picked up a whisper of sound in the darkness, a gentle, almost silent movement of stones and brush. Dunc's rage deserted him and he felt only relief. Toller was out there somewhere, still alive.
Still the seconds ticked away. They were tied to this particular piece of ground. Brunner's men wouldn't let them leave. All they could do was wait for the rest of the gang to find them. And that would be the end.
But Dunc had recovered from his moment of panic. For one wild moment he had considered desertion, but he had recognized the impossibility of such action, simply because he had so much at stake here, too much to run away from.
Several yards in front of Dunc Lester, Owen lay perfectly still, hardly breathing, in a dark thicket of scrubby blackjack. A short distance away Brunner's men were waiting, but Owen could not see them. Vaguely he could make out the shapes of many boulders, but there was no way of knowing behind which boulders the gunmen were waiting. I've come as far as I can, he thought, without giving myself away.
