“He tricked us!” As Anderson made the admission, his face grew rigid, and the veins on the back of his neck expanded.
The other two riders were Mexicans, José and Pedro Gonzalez, two of the Toad’s men. Both were killers. They were used on raids where it was bad policy to leave any survivors.
“Madre de Dios!” José swore. “He has the girl!”
“We hang if——” his brother began.
“We don’t stop him,” Anderson snapped. He gave his orders rapidly. The Mexicans swung their horses to cut in behind Allen, while Anderson, Baldy, and the Yuma Kid turned to their right to head him off. Anderson shouted with exultation when he saw Ace Cutts and several riders top the rise on the farther side of the valley. They had Allen in a trap.
Bill Anderson and the other two were within a half mile of Allen before he saw them. At a glance he understood that they would head him off. He grinned confidently at Snippets.
“Kid, we’re in a jam. Don’t try tuh guide Princess, she savvies how tuh follow,” he called cheerfully.
Allen swung Honey Boy straight up the northern rise toward several mushroomlike buttes. Princess followed some fifteen yards in the rear. He was within a few hundred yards of the crest when Ace Cutts and his men topped the rise. Ace shouted, and three of his men threw themselves off their horses and began to fire, while he and two other men continued to race along the crest.
Allen whirled his horse and sent it in a scrambling run along the treacherous slope. Without a touch of the reins from Snippets, Princess turned and followed. The range was long for accurate shooting, but some of the shots fired by the dismounted men sang uncomfortably close to Allen’s ears.
“Ain’t it funny how folks always shoot over, when shootin’ down a slope?” he called over his shoulder to Snippets, who waved her hand in return. Strangely, she felt excitement, but no fear.