“I—I didn’t want the sheriff to find you,” she said wearily.
“Well, that was shore thoughtful of yuh,” he said, “but I ain’t found him—Nolan. You know what the note said?”
“I heard dad read it. Was that why you wanted a sample of Blaze’s writing?”
He nodded slowly, scanning the cliffs.
“Yeah; I wasn’t sure that he wrote it.”
“Who else would write it?”
And as if in answer to her question, came the thud of a blow, and Cultus’s horse buckled at the knees and went headlong, throwing Cultus to his hands and knees, where he sprawled foolishly, while the canyon walls echoed back the spang of a high-powered rifle.
Jane’s mare whirled wildly, almost unseating her, when a second bullet whined off a rock near her front feet and went skee-e-ing across the canyon. She swung the horse back, spurring viciously. Jane knew they were in a trap, but she was game. Cultus was on his feet now.
“Get on behind me!” she yelled. “Glory will take us out.”
Cultus came running, but before he could get up behind her the brown mare’s left hind leg buckled under her and she went to her haunches, pawing wildly. Jane threw herself free as the mare went over backward, but the fall dazed her for a few minutes.