the seventh man-第31部分

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nney　whipped　back　to　him　like　a　question。　Just　before　them　the　Morgan　Hills　jutted　up；　like　stiff　mud　chopped　by　the　tread　of　giants。　〃Now；　partner；〃　murmured　Barry；　〃show　'em　what　you　can　do！　Jest　lengthen　out　a　bit。〃

The　steady　breeze　from　the　running　sharpened　into　a　gale；　whisking　about　his　face；　there　was　no　longer　the　wave…like　rock　of　that　swinging　gallup　but　a　smooth；　swift　succession　of　impulses。　Rocks；　shrubs　darted　past　him；　and　he　felt　a　gradual　settling　of　the　horse　beneath　him　as　the　strides　lengthened；　From　behind　a　yell　of　dismay；　and　with　a　backward　glance　he　saw　every　man　of　the　posse　leaning　forward　and　swinging　his　quirt。　An　instant　later　half　a　dozen　of　the　ragged　little　hills　closed　between　them。

Once　fairly　into　the　heart　of　the　Morgans；　he　called　the　stallion　back　from　the　racing　stride　to　a　long　canter；　and　from　the　gallop　to　a　rapid　trot；　for　in　this　broken　country　it　was　wearing　on　an　animal　to　maintain　a　lope　up　hill　and　down　the　quick；　jerking　falls。　The　cowpuncher　hates　the　trot；　for　his　ponies　are　not　built　for　it；　but　the　deep　play　of　Satan's　fetlock　joints　broke　the　hard　impacts；　his　gait　now　was　hardly　more　jarring　than　the　flow　of　the　single…foot　in　an　ordinary　animal。

Black　Bart；　who　had　been　running　directly　under　the　nose　of　the　stallion；　now　skirted　away　in　the　lead。　Here　and　there　he　twisted　among　the　gullies　at　a　racing　clip；　his　head　high；　and　always　he　picked　out　the　smoothest　ground；　the　easiest　rise；　the　gentlest　descent　which　lay　more　or　less　straight　in　the　line　of　his　master's　flight。　It　cut　down　the　work　of　the　stallion　by　half　to　have　this　swift；　sure　scout　run　before　and　point　out　the　path；　yet　it　was　stiff　labor　at　the　best　and　Barry　was　glad　when　he　came　on　the　hard　gravel　of　an　old　creek　bed　cutting　at　right　angels　to　his　course。

From　the　first　he　had　intended　to　run　towards　the　Morgans　only　to　cover　the　true　direction　of　his　flight；　and　now；　since　the　posse　was　hopelessly　left　behind　him；　well　out　of　hearing；　he　rode　Satan　into　the　middle　of　the　creek　bed　and　swung　him　north。

It　was　bad　going　for　a　horse　carrying　a　rider；　and　even　the　catlike　certainty　of　Satan's　tread　could　not　avoid　sharp　edges　here　and　there　that　might　cut　his　hoofs。　So　Barry　leaped　to　the　ground　and　ran　at　full　speed　down　the　bed。　Behind　him　Satan　followed；　his　ears　pricked　uneasily；　and　Black　Bart；　at　a　signal　from　the　master；　dropped　back　and　remained　at　the　first　bend　of　the　old；　empty　stream。　In　a　moment　they　wound　out　of　sight　even　of　Bart；　but　Barry　kept　steadily　on。　It　would　take　a　magnifying　glass　to　read　his　trail　over　those　rocks。

He　had　covered　a　mile；　perhaps；　when　Bart　came　scurrying　again　and　leaped　joyously　around　the　master。

〃They've　hit　the　creek；　eh？〃　said　Whistling　Dan。　〃Well；　they'll　mill　around　a　while　and　like　as　not　they'll　run　a　course　south　to　pick　me　up　agin。〃

He　gestured　toward　the　side；　and　as　soon　as　Satan　stood　on　the　good　going　once　more；　Barry　swung　into　the　saddle　and　headed　straight　back　west。　No　doubt　the　posse　would　ride　up　and　down　the　creek　bed　until　they　found　his　trail　turning　back；　but　they　would　lose　precious　minutes　picking　it　up；　and　in　the　meantime　he　would　be　far；　far　away　toward　the　ford　of　Tucker　Creek。　Then；　clearly；　but　no　louder　than　the　snapping　of　a　dry　twig　near　his　ear；　he　heard　the　report　of　a　revolver　and　it　spoke　to　him　of　many　things　as　the　baffled　posse　rode　up　and　down　the　creek　bed　hunting　for　the　direction　of　his　escape。　Some　one　had　fired　that　shot　to　relieve　his　anger。

He　neither　spoke　to　Satan　nor　struck　him；　but　there　was　a　slight　leaning　forward；　an　imperceptible　flexing　of　the　leg　muscles；　and　in　response　the　black　sprang　again　into　the　swift　trot　which　sent　him　gliding　over　the　ground；　and　twisting　back　and　forth　among　the　sharp…sided　gullies　with　a　movement　as　smooth　as　the　run　of　the　wolf…dog；　which　once　again　raced　ahead。

When　they　came　out　in　view　of　the　rolling　plain　Barry　stopped　again　and　glanced　to　the　west　and　the　north；　while　Black　Bart　ran　to　the　top　of　the　nearest　hill　and　looked　back；　an　ever　vigilant　outpost。　To　the　north　lay　the　fordable　streams　near　Caswell　City；　and　that　way　was　perfect　safety；　it　seemed。　Not　perfect；　perhaps；　for　Barry　knew　nothing　of　the　telephones　by　which　the　little　bald　headed　clerk　at　the　sheriff's　office　was　rousing　the　countryside；　but　if　he　struck　toward　Caswell　City　from　the　Morgans；　there　was　not　a　chance　in　ten　that　scouts　would　catch　him　at　the　river　which　was　fordable　for　mile　after　mile。

That　way；　then；　lay　the　easiest　escape；　but　it　meant　a　long　detour　out　of　the　shortest　course；　which　struck　almost　exactly　west；　skirting　dangerously　close　to　Rickett。　But；　as　Billy　had　presupposed；　it　was　the　very　danger　which　lured　the　fugitive。　Behind　him；　entangled　in　the　gullies　of　the　bad…lands；　were　the　fifteen　best　men　of　the　mountain…desert。　In　front　of　him　lay　nothing　except　the　mind　of　Billy　the　clerk。　But　how　could　he　know　that？

Once　again　he　swayed　a　little　forward　and　this　time　the　stallion　swung　at　once　into　his　ranging　gallop；　then　verged　into　a　half…racing　gait；　for　Barry　wished　to　get　out　of　sight　among　the　rolling　ground　before　the　posse　came　out　from　the　Morgan　Hills　on　his　back　trail。



Chapter　XXXI。　The　Trap

He　had　already　covered　a　good　ten　miles；　and　a　large　part　of　that　through　extremely　rough　going；　but　the　black　ran　with　his　head　as　high　as　the　moment　he　pulled　out　of　Rickett　that　morning；　and　there　was　only　enough　sweat　to　make　his　slender　neck　and　greyhound　flanks　flash　in　the　sun。　Back　he　winged　toward　Rickett；　running　as　freely　as　the　wild　leader　of　a　herd；　sometimes　turning　his　fine　head　to　one　side　to　look　back　at　the　master　or　gaze　over　the　hills；　sometimes　slackening　to　a　trot　up　a　sharper　ascent　or　lengthening　into　a　fuller　gallop　on　an　easy　down…slope。　There　seemed　no　purpose　in　the　reins　which　were　kept　just　taut　enough　to　give　the　rider　the　feel　of　his　mount；　and　the　left　hand　which　held　them　was　never　still　for　a　moment；　but　played　back　and　forth　slightly　with　the　motion　of　the　head。　Except　in　times　of　crisis　those　reins　were　not　for　the　transmission　of　orders；　it　seemed；　but　they　served　as　the　wires　through　which　the　mind　of　the　man　and　the　mind　of　the　horse　kept　in　telegraphic　touch。

In　the　meantime　Black　Bart　loafed　behind；　lingering　on　the　crest　of　each　rise　to　look　back；　and　then　racing　to　catch　up；　but　halfway　back　to　Rickett　he　came　up　beside　the　master；　whining；　and　leaping　as　high　as　Barry's　knee。

〃You　seen　something？〃　queried　Barry。　〃Are　they　comin'　on　the　trail　again？〃

He　swayed　a　bit　to　one　side　and　diverted　Satan　out　of　his　course　so　as　to　climb　one　of　the　more　commanding　swells。　From　this　point　he　glanced　back　and　saw　a　dust　cloud；　much　like　that　which　a　small　whirlwind　picks　up；　rolling　down　the　nearest　slope　of　the　Morgan　Hills。　At　that　distance　the　posse　looked　hardly　larger　than　one　unit；　and　certainly　they　could　not　see　the　single　horseman　they　followed；　however；　they　could　follow　the　trail　easily　across　this　ground。　Satan　had　turned　to　look　back。

〃Shall　we　go　back　and　play　around　'em；　boy？〃　asked　Barry。

Black　Bart　had　run　on　ahead；　and　now　he　turned　with　a　short　howl。

〃The　partner　says　'no；'〃　continued　the　master。　〃Of　all　the　dogs　I　ever　see；　Bart　plays　the　most　careful　game；　but　out　on　the　trail；　Satan〃here　he　sent　the　stallion　into　the　sweeping　lope〃Bart　knows　more'n　you　an'　me　put　together；　so　we'll　do　what　he　says。〃

For　answer；　Satan　lengthened　a　little　into　his　stride。　As　for　the　wolf…dog；　he　went　off　like　a　black　bolt　into　the　eye　of　the　wind；　streaking　it　west　to　hunt　out　the　easiest　course。　A　wolfand　surely　there　was　more　of　wolf　than　of　dog　in　Black　Barthas　a　finer　sense　for　the　lay　of　ground　than　anything　on　four　feet。　He　knows　how　to　come　down　the　wind　on　his　quarry　keeping　to　the　depressions　and　ravines　so　that　not　a　taint　of　his　presence　is　blown　to　the　prey；　and　he　will　skulk　across　an　open　plain；　stealing　from　hollow　to　hollow　and　stalking　from　bush　to　bush；　so　that　the　wariest　are　taken　by　surprise。　As　for　Black　Bart；　he　knew　the　kind　of　going　which　the　stallion　liked　as　well；　almost；　as　he　knew　his　own　preferences；　and　he　picked　out　a　course　which　a　surveyor　with　line　and　spirit…level　could　hardly　have　bettered。　He　wove　across　the　country　in　loosely　thrown　semicircles；　and　came　back　in　view　of　the　master　at　the　proper　point。　There　was　hardly　much　point　in　such　industry　in　a　country　as　smooth　as　this；　not　much　more　difference；　say；　than　the　saving　of　distance　which　the　horse　makes　who　hugs　the　fence　on　the　turn　and　on　account　of　that　sticks　his　head　under　the　finish　wire　a　nose　in　front；　and　Bart　clung　to　his　work　with　scrupulous　care。

Sometimes　he　ran　back　with　lolling；　red　tongue；　when　the　course　lay　clear　even　to　the　duller　sense　of　a　human；　and　frisked　under　the　nose　of　Satan　until　a　word　from　Barry　sent　him　scurrying　away　like　a　pleased　child。　His　duties　comprehended　not　only　the　selection　of　the　course　but　also　an　eagle　vigilance　before　and　behind；　so　that　when　he　came　again　with　a　peculiar　whine；　Barry　leaned　a　little　from　the　saddle　and　spoke　to　him　anxiously。

〃D'you　mean　to　say　that　they　been　gainin'　ground　on　us　old　boy？〃

Black　Bart　leaped　sidewise；　keeping　his　head　toward　the　master；　and　he　howled　in　troubled　fashion。

〃Whereaway　are　they　now？〃　muttered　Barry；　and　looked　back　again。　

A　great　distance　behind；　hardly　distinguishable　now；　the　dust　of　the　posse　was　blending　into　the　landscape　and　losing　itself　against　a　gray　background。

〃If　they's　nothin'　wrong　behind；　what's　bitin'　you；　Bart。　You　gettin'　hungry；　maybe？　Want　to　hurry　home？〃

Another　howl；　still　louder；　answered　him。

〃Go　on；　then；　and　show　me　where　they's　trouble。〃

Black　Bart　whirled　and　darted　off　almost　straight　ahead；　but　bearing　up　a　hill　slightly　south　of　their　course。　Toward　the　top　of　this　eminence　he　changed　his　lope　for　a　skulking　trot　that　brought　his　belly　fur　trailing　on　the　ground。

〃They's　somethin'　ahead　of　us；　Satan！〃　cried　the　master　softly。　〃What　could　that　be？　It's　men；　by　the　way　Bart　sneaks　up　to　look　at　'em。　They's　nothin'　else　that　he'd　do　that　way　for。　Easy；　boy；　and　go　soft！〃

The　stallion　cut　his　gallop　into　a　slinking　trot；　his　head　lowered；　even　his　e