Another hundred feet, and I would be around the bend of the river, where my voice would carry to the cave; and I made up my mind I’d get that far if I had to blow up and bust for it. I was getting tired, and my lungs hurt, and my heart was going as if it said, “Choke, choke, choke,” but I let out another notch and went faster than before. It was just a final spurt. A fellow always has that left in him, that last spurt. I never could understand it; no matter how fast you’re going, it seems as if you could go a little bit faster just at the last if it is necessary.
I was around the point now, and, sitting in front of the cave, I could see Mark Tidd, looking like a big fat statue. He was as still as if he had been a stone.
“Mark!” I screeched. “Look out, Mark! They’re after me!”
The next thing I heard was somebody smashing and sprawling onto the ground behind me. Either Batten or Bill had tripped—I don’t know which. That left only one man chasing me, and, somehow, it made my breath come freer and my legs work easier. Maybe it was what I’ve heard folks call “second wind.” At any rate, I kept on and on, until pretty soon the noise behind me got farther away and at last stopped. But I didn’t stop. Not a bit of it. There would be no stopping for me until I’d got a lot more distance between me and those men than there was now.
As soon as I thought I was safe I turned off to the left and scrambled up the hill. You can believe I was careful now. I crawled almost every foot of the way when I started circling back to Mark, but I got there at last. It seemed like a long time; but most likely it wasn’t more than fifteen or twenty minutes after Batten and Bill quit chasing me when I peeked over the brow of the hill down onto the cave. I lay there quiet, not making a sound, because it came into my head I might be more useful as a surprise party than if I went right down to reinforce Mark. So I scrambled around and filled my pockets with pebbles, to be ready when I was needed.
Batten and Bill sat down by the edge of the river getting back their breath. As soon as they were rested again they got onto their feet and started up-hill like they meant business. Mark stood up and took his sling-shot in his hand; and I tell you I was proud of him, the way he made ready to fight all alone without a soul he knew of to help him.
Before they came to the clearing the men separated. Batten came straight up, but Bill forked off to the right to do what Mark called “execute a flank movement.” He was going to come at the cave from the side while Batten charged from the front. It was a pretty desperate situation. Mark couldn’t shoot in two directions at once, and while he was peppering one man the other could sneak up and grab him from the back. I guess he figured he was licked, but that didn’t stop him from fighting to the last second. He was gritty, and no mistake.
“Hum,” says I to myself, “I’ll just give you a surprise party, Mister Bill.” So I slid down in the thick of a mess of hazel bushes, and from them behind a big boulder, always keeping where neither Batten nor Bill could see me, until I was almost over the cave. Then I sat back and grinned.
Bill kept wallowing up the slope, while Batten waited just below the clearing, out of range. When Bill was in position Batten yelled, and both of them dashed for the cave. Mark didn’t pay any attention to Bill. He figured it out, I guess, that the fight was about over, anyhow, and he’d devote all his time to making Batten sorry he came. And he did, too! The way he peppered that man ’most made me laugh out loud. But Batten kept on coming because he knew Bill was on the way.
Well, in about two minutes Bill came out where I could get a whack at him. I put a nice big pebble in my sling and aimed at his hat. Spat went the pebble, and off flew the hat, and Bill brought up sudden. He couldn’t see me, and kept looking all around to find out where the stone came from. The second he turned his head I let him have it again hard. He yelped.