The door bulged, then broke loose from its hinges under a rain of blows.
Cavanaugh stood in the entrance, his good eye wild and rolling, his rifle pointed. Behind him, Pepper appeared, still holding one of the heavy flashlights.
“An Injun,” Cavanaugh gloated without recognition as he took in Sandy’s dirt-smeared, blood-caked body. “One of Hall’s dirty, stinking Injuns. This will teach you!”
His finger tightened on the trigger.
“Pepper!” Sandy gasped with the last remnant of his strength. “Don’t let him kill me, Pepper!”
He slid to the floor as the gun went off.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Fourth Touchdown
Sandy fought his way up from unconsciousness like a diver rising from the bottom of a dark sea. For a long time he lay without moving as he tried to sort out the sounds around him. He was dead, of course, he reasoned. Nevertheless, some of the voices he seemed to hear sounded familiar.
He opened one eye experimentally, prepared to snap it shut if he didn’t like what he saw. Mrs. Gonzales was bending over him with one of her eternal compresses. So was a man with a goatee who had a stethoscope clipped around his neck.
Sandy opened the other eye and turned his head, which seemed to weigh a ton.