“Perhaps,” said the major, unmovedly again, “I don't think EITHER OF US would ever get a chance of being trusted again by any one.”
The sheriff still kept his eyes fixed on his prisoner, his gloomy face growing darker under its grime. “THAT ain't the reason, major. Life and death don't mean much more to you than they do to me in this yer game. I know that you'd kill me quicker nor lightning if you got the chance; YOU know that I'm takin' you to the gallows.”
“The reason is that I want to leave Wynyard's Bar,” said the major coolly; “and even this way out of it will suit me.”
The sheriff took his revolver from his pocket and deliberately cocked it. Then, leaning down, he unbuckled the strap from the major's ankles. A wild hope that his incomprehensible captive might seize that moment to develop his real intent—that he might fly, fight, or in some way act up to his reckless reputation—sustained him for a moment, but in the next proved futile. The major only said, “Thank you, Tom,” and stretched his cramped legs.
“Get up and go on,” said the sheriff roughly.
The major began to slowly ascend the hill, the sheriff close on his heels, alert, tingling, and watchful of every movement. For a few moments this strain upon his faculties seemed to invigorate him, and his gloom relaxed, but presently it became too evident that the prisoner's pinioned arms made it impossible for him to balance or help himself on that steep trail, and once or twice he stumbled and reeled dangerously to one side. With an oath the sheriff caught him, and tore from his arms the only remaining bonds that fettered him. “There!” he said savagely; “go on; we're equal!”
Without replying, the major continued his ascent; it became steeper as they neared the crest, and at last they were both obliged to drag themselves up by clutching the vines and underbrush. Suddenly the major stopped with a listening gesture. A strange roaring—as of wind or water—was distinctly audible.
“How did you signal?” asked the major abruptly.
“Made a smoke,” said the sheriff as abruptly.
“I thought so—well! you've set the woods on fire.”