"I understand," murmured Truxton, a wry smile on his pale lips. "You mean, she is going to pay you in some way for picking me up, eh? Well, I'll put an end to that. I'll drop off again. Then you can ride on and tell her—I wouldn't be a party to the game. Do you catch my meaning?"
"You would, eh?" said the Count angrily. "I'd like to see you drop off while we're going at this—"
"I've got my pistol in the middle of your back," grated Truxton. "Slow up a bit or I'll scatter your vertebræ all over your system. Pull up!"
"As you like," cried Vos Engo. "I've done my part. Colonel Quinnox will bear witness." He began pulling his horse down. "Now, you are quite free to drop off."
Without a word the American swung his leg over and slid to the ground. "Thanks for the lift you've given me," he called up to the astonished officer.
"Don't thank me," sang out his would-be saviour as he put spur to his horse.
It is a lamentable thing to say, but Truxton King's extraordinary sacrifice was not altogether the outgrowth of heroism. We have not been called upon at any time to question his courage; we have, on the other hand, seen times when he displayed the most arrant foolhardiness. I defy any one to prove, however, that he ever neglected an opportunity to better himself by strategy at the expense of fortitude. Therefore, it is not surprising that even at such a time as this we may be called upon to record an example of his spectacular cunning.
Be sure of it, he did not decide to slide from Vos Engo's horse until he saw a way clear to better his position, and at the same time to lessen the glory of his unpleasant rescuer.
Less than a hundred yards behind loped a riderless horse; the dragoon who had sat the saddle was lying far back in the avenue, a bullet in his head. Hobbling to the middle of the road, the American threw up his hands and shouted briskly to the bewildered animal. Throwing his ears forward in considerable doubt, the horse came to a standstill close at hand. Five seconds later King was in the saddle and tearing along in the wake of the retreating guard, his hair blowing from his forehead, his blood leaping with the joy of achievement.
Mr. Hobbs afterward informed him that Count Vos Engo's oaths were worth going miles to avoid.