From where he lay sprawled, reloading hisoverheated Colt, Sunday glared resentfully at the redmen. Mochitaand his cohorts had decided against further participation in thefighting, and seemed to derive grim pleasure from watching thewhites locked in conflict. They had retreated into the corral andwere chattering among themselves. Jimmy Red Cloud lay dead besidethe cabin, his face a bloody mess. Arnie Ellis had crawled tocover; his shoulder wound had put him well and truly out ofaction.
Collier and the others were crouched behindwhatever cover they could find, fanned out to all sides of thecabin, rising up at intervals to snap shots at the windows.Impatiently, Sunday called to the boss hijacker.
“We’re gettin’ no place fast, Webb! Withall that hardware in back of him, he can hold us off for months! Wegotta figure some way to draw him outa there!”
“He holds all the aces, damn him,” mutteredCollier.
“Offer him a deal,” urged Sunday. “What thehell, every man has his price.”
Collier had to admit the possible merit ofthis suggestion. He mentally rehearsed his offer, then beganyelling it to the Texan in the cabin—just as Stretch arrived at thelast bend.
It was one of those rare times when thebrain of the taller Texan worked at double its normal rate.Collier’s voice carried to his ears with infinite clarity. Hereined up: drew his Colts and patiently waited for his pursuers toarrive. They arrived, only a few moments later. Boyle’s mouth wasopen for a bitter harangue.
“Button the lip!” snapped Stretch. “This wasthe only way I could get you up here.”
“What ...?” began Boyle.
“Just shuddup!” growled Stretch. “And useyour doggone ears!”
Boyle and his men cocked their ears, thewhile they hefted their weapons and traded puzzled frowns.
“I have no fight with you Valentine—orwhatever your name is!” Collier called to the man in the cabin.“You’ve seen what’s stored in there—but can you imagine its worth?”And then the eavesdroppers heard the familiar voice of LarryValentine—loud and aggressive.
“I know what this shipment means to theApaches, Collier! This shipment of repeaters—all thisammunition—you hijacked it! You and your sidewinderpards!”
“I had a damn good reason, Valentine,”retorted Collier. “I needed to trade with Gayatero! Use your head!There’s a fortune waiting for us at Sun Dog Mesa, a fortune in rawgold—stolen by Gayatero’s braves a year ago! Do you want to pass upsuch a chance? I’m offering you a fat share, Valentine. You couldget out of this mess alive—and rich! Let me send my men in tocollect those repeaters. They’ll come unarmed. I give you my word...”
‘That’ll be the day!” jeered Larry. “If youthink these new guns are gonna win you a fortune, you’re out ofyour cotton-pickin’ mind. Every shooter in this shipment is goin’right where it belongs—Camp Stone!”
Stretch cocked his Colts, glaredchallengingly at the wide-eyed Boyle.
“Well?” he prodded. “What’re you waitin’for? It sounds like ol’ Larry’s found them hijacked repeaters—andthe skunks that hijacked ’em. Do you tag along with me, or do youset there and think about it?” He added a last insult, as he urgedhis borrowed mount to movement. “Hell, Sarge, you got nothin’ tothink with!”
He rounded the bend fast and headed for theLucky Dutchman at the gallop. Red-faced, Boyle bawled at hismen.
“Chaaarge ...!”
The patrol rounded the bend in force, theirmounts galloping close behind the Texan’s. Inside the cabin, Larryheard his partner’s wild whoop, the challenging Rebel yell.
“Well,” he grinned, as he climbed over hisbarricade with his right fist full of Colt, “better late thannever.”
He hustled to the door, lifted the bar, thenswung it open. Collier and Sunday were on their feet. The Apacheswere clambering out of the corral, Mochita still brandishing arepeater. Sunday’s other cohorts quickly appeared, shooting wildlyat the advancing troopers. The peaks echoed to the thunder of gunsand the strident yells of angry men, and Larry had targets aplenty.On his way to the corral, Collier whirled and spotted him, raisedhis gun and took aim. Larry crouched with his Colt roaring and, forCollier, it was all over. He spun crazily with a red stainspreading over his shirt front.
Sunday was running, panic-stricken. Larrysaw Stretch easing his boots from the stirrups, hurling himselffrom his mount to land astride Sunday and force him to the ground.Sunday made a futile effort to regain his feet. Stretch hauled himhalf upright, then swung a wild uppercut that spread the burlyhardcase flat on his bade, senseless.
A hijacker turned his rifle on thetroopers and paid the supreme penalty. Carbines barked. He pitchedto the ground, flopping in an untidy heap. At the top of his lungsand in urgent Spanish, Larry yelled a warning to Mochita—but toolate. The impulsive paleface-hater was aiming the repeater at atrooper, when Boyle’s Colt roared. The bullet knocked Mochitasprawling.
“Hold your fire!” called Larry.
And, abruptly, all shooting ceased. None ofCollier’s men had emerged unscathed from the battle. Only onetrooper was wounded. The two braves were crouched beside theunconscious Mochita, glaring balefully at the troopers, but makingno move toward the fallen repeater. Over his shoulder, Larrysnapped orders to the sergeant.
“Rope the dead and wounded to theirhorses. Have your men tote the hardware out of the cabin and loadit on the mules. Unless I miss my guess, you’ll find enough mulesto carry the whole damn shipment.” He crooked a finger at hispartner. “Stretch—give me a hand with Mochita.”
“He done for?” enquired Stretch, as hestepped over the unconscious Sunday.
“We better pray he ain’t done for,”growled Larry. “If this buck dies, Bosworth County’ll never be safefor whites.”
In the late afternoon of that day, ColonelMortimer Stone was rudely roused from a cat-nap. He rolled off hisbunk while Captain Kerwin gestured urgently from the flap of thetent.
“You’d better come fast, Sir! We have quitean emergency on our hands!”
“Control yourself, Captain,” scowled thecolonel. “Be specific. Don’t stand there babbling like a juniorlieutenant—fresh out of West Point.”
“Colonel,” said Kerwin, “I couldn’t begin todescribe it. Come see for yourself.”
Stone brushed past the captain, strode outinto the sunlight and stood blinking. It seemed every square footof the camp was seething with activity. Major Vaughan was bawlingorders. Troopers were unslinging crates from the backs of a longline of pack-mules, and
