Part 23 (1/2)
”A hell of a lot of good they'll do you in this camp,” sneered Plimsoll
”Representin' _her_ interests I'll say you are, an' your own along with 'eh from his followers heartened hi off with the girl and noith her tucked away, co back to clean up, I've a notion they'd show you four-flushers where you've sat in to the wrong ga in Sandy's face stopped hi of stone out of which blazed two gray eyes and a voice issued froot a notion, too, Pliood day's work to shoot you fo' a foul-mouthed, lyin', stealin' crook! You sure ain't worth bein' arrested fo', an' there ain't no open season fo'
two-laigged coyotes of yore sort, so I'll give you yore chance You've called me a fo'-flusher twice, an' the on'y way to prove a fo'-flush is to call fo' a shon I'rim earnestness that ier leaves its print in clay They shi+fted back a little froht haveto outface Sandy, to keep his eyes steady His lips were tight closed, still he could not help but open his , to touch the lips with a furtive tongue that found the skin peeling in tiny feverish strips
”You pack yore gun under yore coat flap,” said Sandy ”I don't kno quick you can draw but I aiuns to Morht mistake it
”Now then,” he went on, ”I once told you I looked to you to stop any gossip about Molly Casey Saot huht
You don't seem able to sabe plain talk an' I'oin' to roll ivin' you the aidge on ivin' you till sun-up ter-it plumb out of camp An' to keep driftin'”
Deliberately Sandy took tobacco sack and papers fro auto fro by feel the ah of brown paper While he rolled the cigarette the sack swung froazed at him fascinated Plimsoll's face beaded with tiny drops of sweat, his hands moved slowly upward toward his coat lapels, touched thearette, stayed there, shaking slightly hat erness--or paralysis For the look in the steel gray eyes of Sandy Bourke, half h the ga mind, while he knew that every atom of hesitation lessened his chances
His own hands were close to his chest His right had but a few inches to dart, to drag the autoh above his belt, rolling the cigarette They had four ti rong with his perforo wrong with Sandy's shooting The mention of Butch and Sie all set that time and Butch had been shot down, Sim Hahn's capacities as a crooked dealer had been spoiled for ever But--if he did not take his chance and, failing it, did not leave camp
He felt cold The teard of his bullies, was falling steadily The nervous sas no longer confined to his face The palms of his hands were moist, slippery
”Giulf that could never be bridged He watched the flaarette and then a puff of s away the burnt stick and turned on his heel Murder stirred dully in Plimsoll's brain at the sneers he surmised rather than read on the faces of his followers His defeat was also theirs But the one He knew he lacked the nerve Sandy knew it and had turned his back on hione His boon coave Sandy back his second gun and Sandy slid it into the holster He exhaled the last puff of his cigarette before he spoke again to Plimsoll
”Sun-up, ter-morrer You can send fo' yore stuff here any tiae of a hand”
Plimsoll strode off down the hill alone The ulch They had severed connections with the J P brand for the time, at least The three partners walked back toward the tunnel
”I saw the carkiss of a steer one time,” said Sam, ”that had been lyin'
on a sidehill fo' quite a spell The coyotes an' the buzzards had been at it, an' the wind an' weather had finished the job till there warn't much mo'n hide an' some scattered bones Mebbe a li'l' hair But that carkiss sure held h,” said Morive him till sun-up, Sandy Sun-down 'ud have been better He's a erin' out soit even”
”I w'udn't wonder,” answered Sandy ”Me, I'ot to stay on the claiht heave a stick of dynaood an'
dahk A flyin' chunk of dynae, at that”
He spoke as dispassionately as if he had been discussing a display of harmless fireworks Sandy answered in the same tone
”I don't think it likely, Sam Camp knows, or will knohat's been happenin' If dynamite was thrown they'd sabe who did it an' I don't believe the crowd 'ud stand for it Jest the sait sohtfall I w'udn't wonder if Jiets to send fo' that tent an' stuff of his Hope he does”
”What do ith it?” demanded Mormon
”Nothin', with the stuff We'll set it out beyond the lines co one erlong”
Sam and Mormon both looked at him curiously, but Sandy's face was sphinx-like and they refrained fro Ed,” announced Sandy as they gained the tunnel ”He's totin' sorub”
”Won't offendb'ar an' all our stuff's oveh with Mirandy Bailey”