The gun kept on for a second or so, then stopped. Away in the distance Baird could now hear the sharp barking of dogs. As he wiped the sweat from his face, he wondered if the convicts had made a break.
Where was Noddy? What the hell had he been doing while all this had been going on?
The sound of the siren was deafening. Baird knew it would warn the guards at the prison some five miles away that there was trouble at the river, and it wouldn’t be long before reinforcements arrived.
Then he heard running feet and the sound of someone coming through the saw-grass. He got quickly behind the tree, his Colt ready, and waited.
Noddy and Hater came into the clearing. Noddy was pulling Hater along by his arm. Noddy looked scared. His eyes were bolting out of his head, and he was panting. Hater appeared to be dazed, and he let Noddy drag him along without protest.
Baird stepped out behind the tree.
Immediately Hater saw him, he seemed to come alive. He snatched his arm free from Noddy’s grasp, spun around on his heel and darted back into the thick saw-grass.
Both Noddy and Baird were so startled they didn’t move for a second. Then seeing Hater was escaping the way he had come, they both rushed forward, smashing their way through the bush, trying to head Hater off before he reached the smoke screen that was drifting towards them in the slight breeze that came off the river.
Baird was the first to overtake Hater. He grabbed at Hater’s naked shoulder. Hater squirmed away from him, twisted to his right and ran slap into Noddy, who closed with him.
‘What are you playing at?’ Noddy panted as Hater began to struggle like a madman. If Baird hadn’t grabbed his arm he would have broken loose again.