"Divil a bit did Oi know anything about it. Farnham he tould me to keep damn quiet in the bunkhouse, out o' sight, but whin they wanted for to set this fuse off, it seems Oi was the only lad that could do the job, an' so they brought me out here along wid 'em. It 's a busted head an' a broken arm Oi 've got for me share o' the fun. Be the powers, now, let me git up!"
The two men, watching him closely, exchanged glances.
"All right, Burke," and Winston held up his rifle suggestively. "You can get up, only stay close to us, wid no tricks. I want you, and I want you bad. If you make any break, there 'll be a dead Irishman this time sure. Is that you, Mike?"
"Sure, sor."
"Good; you've come just in time. Drop your muzzle on this native son, and if the fellow makes a suspicious move, plug him, you understand?"
"Ye bet Oi do, sor. Sthep out there, Burke, yer slab-sided boss o' Swades, or Oi 'll show ye what a dacent Oirishman—an O'Brien, bedad,—thinks o' the loikes of ye; Oi will that."
With sympathetic gentleness, and in all the tenderness possible, their eyes moist, and everything else forgotten excepting their sad task, Hicks and Winston kneeled on the hard rock and lifted the slender figure of Mercedes in their arms. Slowly, without the exchange of a word, the little concourse turned in the darkness, and advanced in the direction of the cabin, bearing the silent burden. They walked with bowed heads and careful steps, their hearts heavy. With a faint whinny the girl's deserted pony trotted forward from out the shadow where he had been left, sniffed at her trailing skirt with outstretched nose, and fell in behind, walking with head bent almost to the ground as though he also understood and mourned. Winston glanced, marvelling, back at the animal, hastily brushing a tear from out his own eye; yet his lips remained set and rigid. He felt no doubt about who it was Brown was seeking through the black night. When they met, it would be a battle to the death.
Before the still open door of the cabin they silently lowered their burden in the shadow of the building. An instant they stood there listening intently for any sound to reach them from out the surrounding night. Then Winston, assuming the duty, stepped reluctantly forward endeavoring to peer within. His heart throbbed from the pain of that sudden message of death he brought.
"Beth," he called, perceiving no movement within, and compelling his voice to calmness. "Miss Norvell."
There was a slight movement near the farther wall, but it was the voice of the wounded sheriff which answered.