The rain increased until it seemed to Roscoe it was raining as hard as it could possibly rain. He didn't try to seek shelter, for there was none. It was uncomfortable to be so soaked, but since the water was probably all that was keeping him from being murdered by the little man with the mean eyes, it was silly to complain. Roscoe just sat, hoping that the little creek that filled the gully wouldn't rise enough to drown him.
The storm turned out to be just a heavy shower. In ten minutes the rain lightened, and soon it was barely sprinkling. The sun had set, but to the west there was a clear band of sky under the clouds, and the clouds were thinning. The band of sky became red with afterglow. Above it, as the clouds thinned, there was a band of white, and then a deep blue, with the evening star in it. Roscoe dismounted and stood there dripping, aware that he ought to be planning some form of defense but unable to think of any. It seemed to him the storm might have discouraged the two men-maybe one of them had even been struck by lightning.
Before he could draw much comfort from that line of speculation he heard his own gun go off. A second or two later it went off again, and then again. The sound came from just north of the gully. As he could not be any wetter, and could not stand the suspense of not knowing what was going on, he waded the little creek and climbed the bank, only to look and see the barrels of a shotgun not a yard from his face. The ox of a man held the shotgun; in his big hands it looked tiny, though the barrels in Roscoe's face seemed as big as cannons.
'Clamber on up here, traveler,' the big man said.
July had told him never to argue with a loaded gun, and Roscoe had no intention of disobeying his instructions. He climbed up the muddy bank and saw that Janey was involved in a tussle with the little outlaw. He had her down and was astraddle of her and was trying to tie her, but Janey was wiggling desperately. She was covered with mud, and in the wet, slick grass was proving hard to subdue. The man cuffed her twice, but the blows had no effect that Roscoe could see.
The big man with the shotgun seemed to find the tussle amusing. He walked over for a closer look, though he continued to keep the shotgun pointed at Roscoe.
'Why don't you just shoot her?' he asked the little man. 'She was willing to shoot you.'
The little man didn't answer. He was breathing hard but he continued to try and tie Janey's wrists.
Roscoe had to admire Janey's spunk. The situation looked hopeless, but she kept struggling, twisting around and scratching at the man when she could. Finally the big man stepped in and planted a muddy boot on one of her arms, enabling his companion to tie her wrists. The little man cuffed her again for good measure, and sat back to get his breath. He looked around at Roscoe, his eyes as bad as ever.
'Where'd you get this feisty rabbit?' he asked. 'She dern near shot me and she nicked Hutto.'
'We're from Arkansas,' Roscoe said. He felt foolish for having given Janey the pistol. After all, he was the deputy. On the other hand, if they had seen him shoot, the men might have shot back.
'Let's just shoot them and take the horse,' Hutto, the big man said. 'We could have done it this afternoon and saved all this time.'
'Yeah, and the dern soldiers would have found them,' the other said. 'You can't just leave bodies lying right in the road no more. Somebody's apt to take an interest.'
'Jim, you're too nervous,' Hutto said. 'Anyway, this ain't a road, and we ain't far from the Territory. Let's shoot 'em and take what they got.'
'What
Hutton brought Memphis and the two amused themselves for a few minutes by going through the bedroll and the saddlebags. One kept Roscoe covered with the shotgun while the other emptied the contents of the saddlebags carelessly on the wet grass. What they saw was very disappointing to them.
'All right, Jim, I told you they looked like a waste of time,' Hutto said.
'Well, there's a horse, at least,' Jim said. Then he gave Roscoe a mean look.
'Strip off them duds,' he said.
'What?' Roscoe asked.
'Strip off them duds,' the man repeated. He picked up Roscoe's pistol, which had fallen in the grass, and pointed it at him.
'Why must I?' Roscoe asked.
'Well, your underwear might fit me,' Jim suggested. 'You ain't got much else to offer.'
Roscoe was forced to take off every bit of clothing. He felt miserable taking off his boots, for he knew that wet as they were he'd be lucky to get them back on. But then, if he was dead it wouldn't matter. When he got down to his long johns he became embarrassed, for after all Janey was sitting there watching. She was wet and muddy, and hadn't said a word.
The man seemed to think he might have money sewed in his long johns, and insisted he take them off. Hutto poked him with the barrels of the shotgun, something he couldn't ignore. He took them off and stood there naked, hoping Janey wouldn't look.
Of course the men found the thirty dollars he was carrying in his old wallet-it represented a month's wages, and was all he had to finish the trip with. But they had found that before they made him strip. They seemed reluctant to believe it was all the money he had, and casually proceeded to pick his clothes apart with their knives.
'The thirty dollars is all I got,' he said several times.
'I guess you wouldn't be the first man to lie,' Jim said, picking at the seams of his pants to see if he had any greenbacks sewed in them.
Roscoe was appalled, for the clothes that were being destroyed were the only ones he owned. Then he remembered that he was going to be killed anyway and felt a little better. It was very embarrassing to him to have to stand there naked.
The men weren't watching Janey-they were too intent on trying to find money in his saddlebags. While they were all ignoring her she had been quietly scooting backwards on the slick grass. Jim had his back to her and Hutto was winding Roscoe's old pocket watch. Roscoe happened to look and saw that Janey was quietly creeping away; they had tied her hands but had neglected her feet. Suddenly she began to run. It was deep dusk and in a second she had got into the tall grass north of the gully. She made no sound, but Hutto must have sensed something, for he whirled and let go a blast with the shotgun. Roscoe flinched. Hutto fired the other barrel, and Jim turned and shot three times with Roscoe's own pistol, which he had stuck in his belt.
Roscoe peered into the dusk, but there was no sign of Janey. The bandits looked too, with no better luck.
'Reckon we hit her?' Jim asked.
'Nope,' Hutto said. 'She got in that tall grass.'
'Well, she could be hit,' Jim said.
'I could be General Lee, only I ain't,' Hutto remarked, looking disgusted. 'Why didn't you tie her feet?'
'Why didn't
'I wasn't sitting on her,' Hutto said.
'You watch this one and I'll go catch her,' Jim said. 'I bet once I do she won't get away for a while.'
'Why, Jim, you can't catch her,' Hutto said. 'In this dark? Remember how she ambushed us? If she was a better shot we'd both be corpses, and if she's got a rifle hid out there somewhere we may be corpses yet.'
'I ain't scared of her,' Jim said. 'Dern her, I should have cracked her with a gun barrel a time or two.'
'You should have shot her,' Hutto said. 'I know you expected to amuse yourself, but look how it turned out. The girl got away and the deputy only had thirty dollars and some dirty underwear.'
'She can't be far,' Jim said. 'Let's camp and look for her in the morning.'
'Well, you can, but I'm going,' Hutto said. 'A girl that size ain't worth tracking.'
Just as he said it, a good-sized rock came flying through the air and hit him right in the mouth. He was so surprised he slipped and sat down. The rock had smashed his lips; blood poured down his chin. A second later another hit Jim in the ribs. Jim drew a pistol and fired several times in the direction the rocks came from.
'Oh, stop wasting shells,' Hutto said. He spat out a mouthful of blood.
Two more rocks came flying in, both aimed at Jim. One hit him right in the elbow, causing him to double over in pain. The other flew over his head.
Hutto seemed to think the whole thing was funny. He sat on the muddy ground, laughing and spitting great mouthfuls of blood. Jim crouched down, pistol drawn, watching for rocks.
'This beats all I ever heard of,' Hutto said. 'Here we are in a rock fight with a girl no bigger than a minute, and she's winning. If news of this gets out we'll have to retire.'
