She caught her cousin’s arm. “Stay right where you are,” shouted Morgan, pointing at de Spain, and following Nan as she pulled him along. “When I come back, I’ll give you what you’re looking for.”
“Bring your friends,” said de Spain tauntingly. “I’ll accommodate four more of you. Stop!” With one hand still on his revolver he pointed the way. “Go down that trail first, Morgan. Stay where you are, girl, till he gets down that hill. You won’t pot me over her shoulder for a while yet. Move!”
Morgan took the path sullenly, de Spain covering every step he took. Behind de Spain Nan stood waiting for her cousin to get beyond earshot. “What,” she whispered hurriedly to de Spain, “will you do?”
Covering Morgan, who could whirl on him at any turn in the descent, de Spain could not look at her in answering. “Looks pretty rocky, doesn’t it?”
“He will start the whole Gap as soon as he gets to his horse.”
He looked at the darkening sky. “They won’t be very active on the job before morning.”
Morgan was at a safe distance. De Spain turned to Nan. He tried to speak out to her, but she sternly smothered his every effort. Her cheeks were on fire, she breathed fast, her eyes burned.
“It looks,” muttered de Spain, “as if I should have to climb Music Mountain to make a get-away.”