The prospect looked practically hopeless.
"You don't think it can be done? Well now listen. Here's my scheme,
an' I reckon it'll work. Naturally Lacy will think we'll try to get
away--make a break for it in the dark. He'll have both them banks
guarded, an' ther fellers will have orders ter shoot. He'd rather have
us dead than alive. But, to my notion, he won't expect us ter try any
getaway before midnight. Anyhow, that's how I'd figure if I was in his
place. But my idea is to pull one off on him, an' start the minute it
gets dark enough, so them lads can't see what's goin' on out yere."
"We'll fight our way through?"
"Not a fight, my son; we'll make it so softly that not a son-of-a-gun
will ever know how it happened. When they wake up we'll be twenty
miles out in the desert, an' still a goin'. Thar's a big log clinging
ter the upper end o' the rock. I saw it when I fust come over; an'
'bout an hour ago I crept back through that gully an' took a good look.
A shove will send it floatin'. An' with a good pair o' legs to steer
with, thar ain't nuthin' to stop it this side the curve, an' I don't
calculate any o' the rifle brigade will be down as fur as that--do you?"
"Not likely," and Westcott measured the distance with eyes that had
lost their despondency.
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