“There’s no doubt they’re following us,”drawled Collier. “And their curiosity could be dangerous.”
“Too damn dangerous for my likin’,” growledSunday. “Why’d they have to show up at a time like this—right whenwe’re near ready to clinch our deal with the Apaches?”
“That’s a question they’ll never answer,”said Collier, grimly. “We’ll have to dispose of them, Rube. Shuttheir mouths.”
“It’s as good as done,” Sunday assuredthem. “From here, me and Arnie can pick ’em off easy. Time enoughto come back and get rid of the bodies after we’ve settled ourbusiness with these Injuns. Go ahead, Webb. You keep them buckscovered, while me and Arnie take care of these proddyTexans.”
Collier drew his Colt, returned to thehorses and, by raising a finger to his mouth, cautioned the Apachesto silence. Ellis swung down and toted his rifle to where his cronylay. They bellied down side by side.
“All right,” said Sunday. “I’ll take thefirst one. You get a bead on his sidekick. We both cut loosetogether, savvy?”
“Okay.” Ellis grinned a cruel grin, as hisfinger curled about the trigger. “The skinny one’s for me—and I’mready when you are.”
The range was considerable, but they wereconfident—over-confident.
“Now!” said Sunday.
Both rifles barked in unison, the two shotsmerging as one. Through the wreathing smoke from the barrels, theysaw their victims plunging from their saddles, then disappearingbeyond the edge of the trail. Sunday chuckled elatedly, andremarked,
“It’ll be a long drop for ’em—a long, longdrop.”
“They won’t know about it,” Ellis coollyasserted. “I’ll swear I hit my mark dead-center.”
“Makes no never-mind,” shrugged Sunday, ashe rose to his feet. “If our bullets didn’t kill ’em, they dieanyways. Fallin’ that far, a man’d break every bone in hiscarcass.”
For Larry Valentine, the fewmoments following that crackle of rifle fire had been fraught with tension.He hadn’t lost consciousness, despite the crushing impact of thebullet, an impact so powerful as to drive him out of his saddle. Hewas all too aware of his grim predicament, knew he was sliding downa steep slope. His hands were clawing desperately, instinctively.He grasped earth that crumbled between his fingers patches of brushthat came away from the cliff face, spattering dirt into hisface.
And then, some forty feet from below thetrail, his hefty body was jolted by sudden contact with anoutcropping, a rock ledge that did not give way. His legs dangled,but he was braced on his elbows, and making himself a ferventpromise.
“This is as far as I drop!”
Pain bedeviled his ribs, as he planted hishands on the ledge and hauled himself upward. Grunting Lone Starprofanity, he flopped on his left side and took a moment to examinehis wound. Finding the battered slug was no difficult chore, underthe circumstances. He extricated it with thumb and index fingerfrom the wreck of the timepiece in his right side vest pocket.Small wonder his flesh was bruised and bloody, and probably a ribdented. The bullet had driven the metal casing of the watch hardagainst him.
His pulse quickened, as he thrust his headover the side of the ledge to begin scanning the lower reaches ofthe cliff face. Almost immediately, he spotted his partner. Itwould have been difficult for him not to do so, because Stretch’sfall had been checked just a short distance below the ledge. Thetaller Texan didn’t look at his best from this angle, upside down,his long legs and lean buttocks protruding from a thick clump ofbrush. Urgently, Larry called to him. “You okay, big feller?”
“Oh, fine,” came Stretch’s muffled reply. “Iain’t like ordinary folks. I relish gettin’ stuck this way—butt upand head down. It’s fun.”
“How bad are you hit?” demanded Larry.
“Shoulder smarts some,” grunted Stretch.“Maybe that slug only creased me, but it sure packed a wallop.”
“Listen to what I’m tellin’ you,” mutteredLarry. “I’m on a hunk of rock just atop of you. Maybe it’s strongenough to hold the both of us. If I’m wrong, we’ll find out soonenough—the hard way.”
“I hear you,” said Stretch.
“I’m gonna swing over and hang on by myhands and elbows,” said Larry. “If you can get your skinny carcassuntangled from that bush, rise up and grab my legs, you could climbover me and up to the ledge. You got that?”
“I got that,” Stretch assured him.
“I’m swingin’ over now,” called Larry. “Whenyou unfold, you’d better pray that bush don’t come free.”
Once again, he hung with his legsdangling, his hands and arms pressed hard against the surface ofthe ledge. Stretch was then obliged to perform the acrobatic featof turning himself right side up, while still clinging to the bush.How he achieved this was something Larry would never know, becausehe didn’t look down. Stretch squinted upward, decided his partner’sfeet were just close enough. He jackknifed, then straightened fast,throwing his arms up. Every sinew of Larry’s powerful body seemedto take the strain, as Stretch’s arms wound about hislegs.
“That’s it!” he panted. “Keep comin’, bigfeller. Grip the back of my belt, then force yourselfup.”
It was as though some outsized, incrediblyheavy insect were crawling up his back. Stretch gripped at his beltwith one hand, grasped at his shoulder with the other. The strainwas tremendous, but mercifully brief, because it took the tallerTexan only a few seconds to get a hand-hold on the ledge. He hauledhimself up and swung over. In the process, his right boot struckLarry’s head. Larry cussed, but not heatedly, and then Stretch wasleaning over, seizing a fistful of the back of his vest, andmuttering,
“Up you come, runt.”
Larry again swung onto the ledge. They layclose together, propped on elbows, trading wry grins.
“Not this time, huh, runt?” gruntedStretch.
“Not this time,” Larry agreed. “But nothanks to Collier and his pards.”
“Yeah,” frowned Stretch. “It had to be them.They must’ve spotted us.”
“If they were all that hot to get rid ofus,” muttered Larry, “it figures they got plenty to hide.”
“Meanin’ hijacked rifles?” challengedStretch.
“I don’t mean hijacked apples,” growledLarry.
He tugged out the tails of his partner’sshirt, tore off a strip and used it to bandage the ugly bullet-gashat Stretch’s left shoulder. The bleeding eased, but not till themakeshift bandage was sodden and streaked
