Even as she caught this movement, too dazed for
the instant to act, the injured man struggled up on one elbow, and,
with all the force he possessed, hurled the knife straight at the
fleeing figure. It flashed through the air, a savage gleam of steel,
barely missing Mendez's shoulder, and buried itself in a log, quivering
from the force of impact. With a yell of derision, his hands still
bound, the desperate fugitive cast himself head-first through the
opening. Without aim, scarcely aware of what she did, the girl flung
up her weapon and fired. With revolver yet smoking she rushed forward
to look without. Rolling over and over on the ground, his face covered
with blood, Mendez was seeking to round the corner of the cabin, to get
beyond range. Again she pulled the trigger, the powder smoke blowing
back into her face, and blinding her. When she could see once more, he
was gone, but men were leaping out through the door of the bunk-house,
shouting in excitement.
One of these caught sight of her, and fired, the bullet chugging into
the end of a log, so closely it caught a strand of her hair, but,
before another shot could follow, she had seized the shutter, and
closed the opening, driving the latch fast with the revolver butt.
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