True damned him violently. Then he groaned, and a moment later there was the sound of his revolver hurled from him, clattering among the stones. Howard took it up, shoved it into his pocket and turned toward the gulch. While he sought for a sight of Bettins he hastily filled the empty chambers of his own weapon.
Now only he realized how brief a time had elapsed since Ed True's first shot. The grass fire was blazing, but had crept up the draw only a few feet. And Bettins had not yet had the time to come from the other side, down into the gulch and up on this side. He saw Bettins; the man was standing still staring toward his fallen companions. The fire leaped higher, its light danced out in widening circles, touching at last the spot where Howard stood, where Ed True and Monte Devine lay.
'Well, Bettins?' called Howard abruptly.
'What about you? Are you coming over?'
Bettins was silent a moment. The light flickered on the gun in his hand. Presently he raised his voice to inquire anxiously:
'Hurt much, Monte? And you, True?'
No answer from Monte. True shrieked at him: 'Come, over and plug him,
Bettins. For God's sake, plug the damn cowman.'
Still Bettins hesitated.
'Monte dead?' he demanded.
'How the hell do I know?' complained True.