Claiborne jumped up and waved his hat and a
rifle-ball flicked his coat collar as lightly as though an unseen hand
had tried to brush a bit of dust from it. As he turned toward the
marksman behind the cedars three shots, fired in a volley, hummed about
him. Then it was very still, with the Sabbath stillness of early morning
in the hills, and he heard faintly the mechanical click and snap of the
rifles of Chauvenet's party as they expelled their exploded cartridges
and refilled their magazines.
"They're really not so bad--bad luck to them!" he muttered. "I'll be ripe
for the little brown men after I get through with this;" and Claiborne
laughed a little and watched Armitage's slow advance out into the open.
The trio behind the barricade had not yet seen the man they had crossed
the sea to kill, as the line of his approach closely paralleled the long
irregular wall with its fringe of cedars; but they knew from Claiborne's
signal that he was there. The men had picketed their horses back of the
little fort, and Claiborne commended their good generalship and wondered
what sort of beings they were to risk so much upon so wild an adventure.
Pages:
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332