With as much compunction as a cow-puncher who drags a calf up to the branding fire, so Ellis swiftly trailed the unfortunate Scotty towards the opening in the brush. The watchful Gallagher darted noiselessly forward and, turning him on his back, slacked off the lariat.
Benton leaped down. “Quick!” he whispered fiercely. “Let’s have ’em!”
Snatching the handcuffs from the other, he snipped them on Scotty’s wrists. The latter was still moaning and gasping with the shock of his fall.
“Yu’ ain’t croaked him, hev yu’, Sargint?” said the rancher, in a low voice.
“Nah,” snarled the policeman, in a tense whisper. “That flop’s jerked th’ wind outa him, that’s all. He’ll come to in a second an’ most likely start in to bawl, so yu’ll wanta be ready with that handkerchief. Say! that’s sure some rope-horse o’ Shorty’s—c’n turn on a dollar. See here; look! I’m a-goin’ to wait at th’ gate for George. No use for to try an’ rope him—he’s too heavy. I’ll have to fix him some other road. He’ll be some handful, too, believe me! If I shout for yu’, leave Scotty an’ come on th’ dead run. Mind, though, I don’t want no shootin’ unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
He turned swiftly, and was about to mount again, when a sudden thought flashed into his mind. Scotty was not wearing white chaps. They would be a “dead give away,” he reflected. At close range they would show up plainly to Fisk in that light.
The next instant he had unbuckled the waist-strap and kicked them off; then, leaving Shorty’s white horse, he ran to where his late victim’s mount still stood waiting. At his sudden, hasty approach, it edged away slightly, and snorted, scenting an unfamiliar being; but, impatient, he grabbed at and caught one of its trailing lines, and the next minute was in the saddle. The stirrups were about an equal length to his own, so he felt comfortable enough on the beautiful, springy beast. Taking up its owner’s previous position at the open gate, he waited quietly.
Soon there came a slowly gathering, muffled thud of many hoofs, and the shadowy blurr of a bunch of horses became visible to him as they drew near. On they came, and the leader, after suddenly stopping and snorting with puffed-out nostrils at the apparition of the rider, who remained so motionless at the side of the gate, darted through, the others speedily following, well strung out by the skilful tactics of their driver to avoid jamming at the opening.
As the last horse passed through the gate, Ellis planted himself squarely in the midway, facing the rider, who was bringing up the rear. The huge form gradually loomed up nearer to him in the surrounding gloom.
“H—l! what yu’ waitin’ fur, d—n yu’?” rumbled the deep, harsh, low-pitched voice. “Why didn’t yu’ head ’em off, west?”