“I’m going to try to do that.”
“Not a very safe job with a slim feller like that,” said the driver.
“I had some practice at it in France.... Great training ground, France. Also, I’ve done quite a lot of stalking. Anyhow, it’s our only chance if we’re not to remain here all day.”
The two men crawled across to their stations and Gatineau fired at Siwash. The shot was immediately answered, and as immediately a very hearty fusilade burst from the two behind their rocks. Clement chuckled at the ardor Gatineau and his companion put into the business. It was a real early morning “hate.” Not three men but a file seemed to be in action.
But though Clement Seadon was grinning, he was also fulfilling his own part of the plan. Directly the attention of the man on the rock was occupied, he began to worm his way in a wide circle to the right. He had good cover, and he made excellent progress. He was also helped by the clever coöperation of his companions. They went one better than instructions. Instead of remaining in one place and firing from that, they worked steadily along the arc to the left, and Siwash—Clement was certain it was Siwash—in swiveling round to follow them, naturally turned his back more and more on Clement. They drew fire with all manner of tricks.
Meanwhile Clement made definite progress. The ground was rocky and made for stalking. In about half-an-hour he reached a position from which he could see the fellow as he moved stealthily from point to point. It was, as he had thought, Siwash.
Actually, at one time, he had Siwash’s legs and thighs at the mercy of his pistol, but though the chances were six to one on his hitting, he decided not to risk it. If he wounded the fellow he might not put him out, while it would betray the double game they were playing. When he fired he must do so with absolute certainty of putting an end to this pistol play.
All the same, he had to fire before he was ready. He had worked round to a fairly good position, when he saw no more than the hands of Siwash (the rest was covered) doing a peculiar thing. The hands seemed to be rolling a cigarette. The hands finished rolling the cigarette, and, with the utmost cunning, it was lighted. A broad puff of smoke rose up, and another, immediately drawing a spattering of shots from the men below. Siwash, hidden, puffed for a minute on the cigarette, then the hands appeared again, and Clement watched them fixing the wet butt of the smoke cleverly to the face of a rock. Siwash had calculated the draught well, for the lighted end gave off a thin thread of smoke, which occasionally became puffs, in the now advanced light of the growing day. Directly he had fixed up the cigarette, he appeared and began to slink away between the rocks.... Then Clement fired.
He had to fire. He recognized Siwash’s game at once. Siwash meant to hypnotize the men below with that cigarette smoke. With their eyes fixed on that, they would not notice the fellow was worming round them. The first intimation of his tactics they would get would be a shot from their exposed flank, and that shot would be aimed to kill. Clement recognized this in a flash, and fired.