A hoarse yell presently confirmed his diagnosis. Its note changed almost immediately to rage and disappointment, and presently a thin coil of smoke issued from the doorway, followed by a bright flash of flame as the fire licked up the dry thatch of the ramada. Like infuriated ants the raiders ran next to fire the stables. They were within easy rifle-shot and Sliver was drawing an experimental bead when Jake knocked up his rifle.
“One shot,” he replied, to Sliver’s grumble, “an’ they’ll go like a flock of quail into the chaparral.”
Happening to glance at Bull just then, he nudged Sliver to look.
On his knees, peering through a bush, the man looked for all the world like some great animal, bear or black tiger, crouching for its prey. Under dark brows, his coal eyes burned. Like some huge dog held in leash, slow shivers coursed through his frame. Always the two had recognized in him depths of feeling beyond them. The slow shake of the head that passed between them expressed consciousness of a hurt beyond their plumbing. They looked quickly away as Bull turned toward them.
“Time to be moving. They’ll be coming presently.”
An hour later saw them all placed—Gordon in the chaparral at the top of the trail; Bull, Sliver, and Jake at intervals of quarter of a mile down the zigzag trail.
“No shooting as they go down,” Bull cautioned them. “Coming back, they’ll be among the horses without a chance to turn.”
The arrangement, while wise, was not altogether to Sliver’s taste; he grumbled to Jake as they moved on down to their places: “Fat chance for us. He’ll pick half of ’em off going up between him and Gordon, then turn and plug the others. Any maverick that gets by to us will be that riddled a bullet ’ull slip through him without t’eching.”
“Ain’t it coming to him?” Jake scornfully questioned. “He’s welcome to my share—if it’s any comfort. But listen, hombre—let me tell you that the killing of every revueltoso in Mexico ain’t a-going to cure his hurt.”
Leaving Sliver at his post, Jake moved on down, and after he also disappeared in the chaparral silence spread a warm spell over valley and mountain; golden, sunlit silence that was emphasized rather than broken by the wild screech of a hawk.