Part 21 (1/2)

Daniels first checked his horse, and then lost control of it as the bridle broke, and when the bullet struck its fetlock it wheeled and went flying to the rear. The sheriff felt a tingle in his left arm, and, maddened, he seized the severed parts of his bridle and forced the horse to face about. Then he bent forward, apparently taking careful aim at one of the figures beneath the trees, but before he could fire, his horse reared and plunged and went down in a heap beneath him.

In the meantime, Nick, Emerson, and Judge Harlin were exchanging rapid shots with the rest of the sheriff's party. Those of the latter went rather wild, because their frightened horses made it impossible for them to take careful aim. And also by reason of the constant dancing about of the beasts, the accurate markmans.h.i.+p of the men under the trees was not of much avail. Nick found that his magazine was empty and called out:

”Tom, give me some of your hulls! I used up all mine keepin' your darned sheriff back. Gimme some hulls quick!”

He dropped a handful of cartridges into the magazine and raised his rifle with the remark, ”Now see 'em scatter!”

The sharp, cras.h.i.+ng din of the Winchesters kept steadily on. One of the Daniels party fell over on his horse's neck, and two of their animals became unmanageable. Daniels had knelt behind his fallen horse and across its body he was taking careful aim. Tom felt a bullet graze his cheek, and saw whence it had come. ”I'll put a stop to that,” he exclaimed, and in another moment the sheriff tumbled over with a bullet in his shoulder. Mead felt a sharp pain in one side, and knew that hot lead had kissed his flesh. It was the first wound he had ever received. With a scream of pain a horse fell, struggling, beneath its rider. From one man's hands the rifle dropped and his right arm hung helpless by his side. Another horseman swayed in his saddle and fell to the ground, and his horse galloped to the rear, dragging the man part of the way with his foot in the stirrup.

Still the remnant of hors.e.m.e.n held their own against the steady rain of bullets from the trees. Presently a flesh wound made Halliday's horse unmanageable and it bolted straight for the grove. The four men paused with fingers on triggers, looking at him in wonder.

”Who would have thought he had the sand to do that!” Mead exclaimed.

Suddenly his horse turned and flew toward the rear. ”Whoo-oo-oo-ee!”

came a derisive shout from the grove, followed by a volley of bullets. The other hors.e.m.e.n took advantage of the diverted firing, and made a dash forward, dropping their rifles across their saddles and using their revolvers. It was evident that they hoped, by this sudden charge, to dislodge the enemy and force a retreat.

”Out and at 'em, boys,” yelled Nick. ”Whoo-oo-oo-ee!” And the four men rushed from under cover of the trees, rifles in hand, straight toward the approaching hors.e.m.e.n.

Dropping on one knee and firing, then rising and running forward a few steps, and dropping and firing again, they dashed toward the enemy.

Surprised and confused by this sudden move, the hors.e.m.e.n halted, irresolute, then turned and fled down the road.

”Buffaloed!” yelled Mead.

”After 'em, boys!” shouted Judge Harlin. And the four started on the run after the retreating enemy.

”Chase 'em to Plumas!” yelled Nick.

”And learn 'em to let us alone after this!” bellowed Tom, in a voice that reached the ears of the flying party, above the m.u.f.fled roar of their horses' hoofs.

Halliday had got his horse under control again by the time he reached the place where Colonel Whittaker stood guard, beside the pack horses, and after a few hasty words with Whittaker he started back. When he saw the rout of his party he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and waving it aloft he came galloping on.

”Look at that, will you!” yelled Nick. ”They want to surrender!”

”I reckon they want to have a conference,” said Judge Harlin.

The four men halted and stood with their guns in their hands, waiting Halliday's approach.

”Emerson,” he called, ”do you stick to what you told Mr. Wellesly?”

”What do you mean?”

”That you'd submit to arrest when we could prove that Will Whittaker died by violence.”

”Certainly, I do.”

”Then hand over your guns, for we've got his body!”

”Let me see it first. If I can recognize it I'll keep my word.”

”It's back there where his father is.”