the seventh man-第5部分

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oon　another　went；　and　hung　there　wiggling；　and　six　times　he　went　through　all　the　motions　of　pullin'　his　six…shooter　and　firin'　it。　I　counted。　'Kick　away；　old　fellow；'　says　Boone　Helm；　'I'll　be　with　you　soon。'　Then　it　came　his　turn　and　he　hollered：　'Hurrah　for　Jeff　Davis；　let　her　rip！'　That　was　how　Boone　Helm〃

The　rest　of　the　story　was　blotted　from　the　mind　of　Vic　Gregg　by　the　thud　of　a　heavy　heel　on　the　veranda；　and　then　the　broad　shoulders　of　Blondy　Hansen　darkened　the　doorway；　Blondy　Hansen　dressed　for　the　dance；　with　the　knot　of　his　black　silk　handkerchief　turned　to　the　front　and　above　that　the　gleam　of　his　celluloid　collar。　It　was　dim　in　the　saloon；　compared　with　the　brightness　of　the　outdoors；　and　perhaps　Blondy　did　not　see　Vic。　At　any　rate　he　took　his　place　at　the　other　end　of　the　bar。　Three　pictures　tangled　in　the　mind　of　Gregg　like　three　bodies　in　a　whirlpoolBetty；　Blondy；　Pete　Glass。　That　strange　clearness　of　perception　increased　and　the　whole　affair　lay　plainly　before　him。　Betty　had　sent　Hansen；　dressed　manifestly　for　the　festival；　to　gloat　over　Vic　in　Lorrimer's　place。　He　was　at　it　already。

〃All　turned　out　for　the　dance；　Blondy；　eh？　Takin'　a　girl？〃

〃Betty　Neal；〃　answered　Blondy。

〃The　hell　you　are！〃　inquired　Lorrimer；　mildly　astonished。　〃I　thoughtwhy；　Vic's　back　in　town；　don't　you　know　that？〃

〃He　ain't　got　a　mortgage　on　what　she　does。〃

Then；　guided　by　the　side…glance　of　Lorrimer；　Hansen　saw　Gregg；　and　he　stiffened。　As　for　Vic；　he　perceived　the　last　link　in　his　chain　of　evidence。　Hansen　was　going　to　a　dance；　and　yet　he　wore　a　gun；　and　there　could　be　only　one　meaning　in　that：　Betty　had　sent　him　down　there　to　wind　up　the　affair。

〃Didn't　see　you；　Vic；〃　Blondy　was　saying；　his　flushed　face　seeming　doubly　red　against　the　paleness　of　his　hair。　〃Have　something？〃

〃I　ain't　drinkin'；〃　answered　Gregg；　and　slowly；　to　make　sure　that　no　one　could　miss　his　meaning；　he　poured　out　a　glass　of　liquor；　and　drank　it　with　his　face　towards　Hansen。　When　he　put　his　glass　down　his　mind　was　clearer　than　ever；　and　with　omniscient　precision；　with　nerveless　calm；　he　knew　that　he　was　going　to　kill　Blondy　Hansen；　knew　exactly　where　the　bullet　would　strike。　It　was　something　put　behind　him；　his　mind　had　already　seen　Hansen　fall；　and　he　smiled。

Dead　silence　had　fallen　over　the　room；　and　in　the　silence　Gregg　heard　a　muffled；　ticking　sound；　the　beating　of　his　heart；　heard　old　Lew　Perkins　as　the　latter　softly；　slowly；　glided　back　out　of　the　straight　line　of　danger；　heard　the　quick　breathing　of　Captain　Lorrimer　who　stood　pasty　pale；　gaping　behind　the　bar；　heard　the　gritted　teeth　of　Blondy　Hansen；　who　would　not　take　water。

〃Vic；〃　said　Blondy；　〃it　looks　like　you　mean　trouble。　Anyway；　you　just　now　done　something　that　needs　explaining。〃

He　stood　straight　as　a　soldier；　rigid；　but　the　fingers　of　his　right　hand　twitched；　twitched；　twitched；　the　hand　itself　stole　higher。　Very　calmly；　Vic　hunted　for　his　words；　found　them。

〃A　cattle　rustler　is　bad；〃　he　pronounced；　〃a　hoss　thief　is　worse；　but　you're　the　lowest　sneak　of　the　lot；　Blondy。〃

Again　that　silence　with　the　pulse　in　it；　and　Vic　Gregg　could　feel　the　chill　which　numbed　every　one　except　himself。

The　lower　jaw　of　Captain　Lorrimer　sagged；　and　his　whisper　came　out　in　jerking　syllables：　〃God　Almighty！〃　Then　Blondy　went　for　his　gun；　and　Vic　waited　with　his　hand　on　the　butt　of　his　own；　waited　with　a　perfect；　cold　foreknowledge；　heard　Blondy　moan　as　his　Colt　hung　in　the　holster；　saw　the　flash　of　the　barrel　as　it　whipped　out；　and　then　jerked　his　own　weapon　and　fired　from　the　hip。　Blondy　staggered　but　kept　himself　from　falling　by　gripping　the　edge　of　the　bar　with　his　left　hand；　the　right；　still　holding　the　gun；　raised　and　rubbed　across　his　forehead；　he　looked　like　a　sleeper　awakening。

Not　a　sound　from　any　one　else；　while　Vic　watched　the　tiny　wraith　of　smoke　jerk　up　from　the　muzzle　of　his　revolver。　Then　Blondy's　gun　flashed　down　and　clanked　on　the　floor。　A　red　spot　grew　on　the　breast　of　Hansen's　shirt；　now　he　leaned　as　if　to　pick　up　something；　but　instead；　slid　forward　on　his　face。　Vic　stepped　to　him　and　stirred　the　body　with　his　toe；　it　wobbled；　limp。



Chapter　V。　The　Fight

There　were　three　spots　of　white　in　the　dim　saloon；　the　faces　of　Stewart；　Lorrimer；　and　old　Lew　Perkins；　and　at　the　feet　of　Vic　grew　a　spot　of　red。　Knowing　with　calm　surety　that　no　hand　would　lift　against　him　even　if　he　turned　his　back；　he　walked　out　the　door　without　a　word　and　swung　into　the　saddle。　There；　for　an　instant；　he　calculated　chances；　for　the　street　stretched　empty　before　and　behind　with　not　a　sound　of　warning　stirring　in　the　saloon。　He　was　greatly　tempted　to　ride　to　Dug　Pym's　for　his　blanket　roll　and　a　few　other　traveling　necessities；　but　he　remembered　that　the　men　of　Alder　rose　to　action　with　astonishing　speed；　within　five　minutes　a　group　of　hard　riders　would　be　clattering　up　his　trail　with　Pete　Glass　at　their　head。　An　unlucky　Providence　had　sent　Pete　to　Alder　on　this　day　of　all　days。　There　stood　his　redoubtable　dusty　roan　at　the　hitching　rack；　her　head　low；　one　ear　back　and　one　flopped　forward；　her　under　lip　pendulousin　a　pasture　full　of　horses　one　might　pick　her　last　either　for　stout　heart　or　speed。　Even　in　spite　of　her　history　Vic　would　have　engaged　Grey　Molly　to　beat　the　roan　at　equal　weights；　but　since　he　outbulked　the　sheriff　full　forty　pounds；　he　weighed　in　nice　balance　the　necessity　of　shooting　the　roan　before　he　left　Alder。　It　was；　he　decided；　unpleasant　but　vital；　and　his　fingers　had　already　slid　around　the　butt　of　his　gun　when　a　horse　whinnied　far　off　and　the　roan　twitched　up　her　head　to　listen。　She　was　no　longer　a　cloddish　lump　of　horseflesh；　but　an　individual；　a　soul；　Gregg's　hand　fell　from　his　gun。　Cursing　his　sentimental　weakness；　he　lifted　Molly　into　a　canter　down　the　street。　Still　no　signs　of　awakening　behind　him　or　about；　only　little　Jack　Sweeney　playing　tag　with　a　black…and…tan　puppy；　the　triumphant　cackle　of　a　hen　somewhere　to　the　left；　but　as　he　neared　the　end　of　the　street；　where　the　trail　swung　into　the　rocks　of　the　slope；　a　door　banged　far　off　and　a　voice　was　screaming：　〃Pete！　Pete　Glass！〃

Grey　Molly　switched　her　tail　nervously　at　the　shout；　but　Vic　was　too　wise　to　let　her　waste　strength　hurrying　up　so　sharp　a　declivity；　that　dusty　roan　whose　life　he　had　spared　would　be　spending　it　prodigally　to　overtake　him　before　long　and　Molly's　power　must　be　husbanded。　So　he　kept　her　at　a　quick　walk　by　pressing　the　calf　of　one　leg　into　her　flank　and　turned　in　the　saddle　to　watch　the　town　sink　behind　him。　Sometime　in　the　vague；　stupid　past　Marne　had　jog…trotted　down　this　slope；　but　now　he　was　a　new　man　with　an　eye　which　saw　all　things　and　a　gun　which　could　not　fail。　Figures；　singularly　tiny　and　singularly　distinct；　swarmed　into　the　street　from　nowhere；　men　on　horses；　men　swinging　into　saddles；　here　and　there　the　slant　light　of　the　afternoon　twinkled　on　gun　barrels；　and　ludicrous　thin　voices　came　piping　up　the　hill。　As　he　reached　the　nether　lip　of　Murphy's　Pass　a　small　cavalcade　detached　itself　from　the　main　mass　before　Captain　Lorrimer's　saloon　and　swept　down　the　street；　first　a　dusty　figure　on　a　dusty　horse；　hardly　visible；　then　a　spot　of　red　which　must　be　Harry　Fisher　on　his　blood…bay；　with　a　long…striding　sorrel　beside　him　that　could　carry　no　one　except　grim　old　Sliver　Waldron。　Behind　these　rode　one　with　the　light　glinting　on　his　silver　conchosMat　Henshaw；　the　town　Beau　Brummel　then　the　black　Guss　Reeve；　and　last　of　all　〃Ronicky〃　Joe　on　his　pinto；　〃Ronicky〃　Joe；　handy　man　at　all　things；　and　particularly　guns。　It　showed　how　fast　Pete　Glass　could　work　and　how　well　he　knew　Alder；　for　Vic　himself　could　not　have　selected　five　cooler　fighters　among　the　villagers　or　five　finer　mounts。　The　posse　switched　around　the　end　of　the　street　and　darted　up　the　hill　like　the　curling　lash　of　a　whip。

〃Good；〃　said　Vic　Gregg。　〃The　damn　fools　will　wind　their　horses　before　they　hit　the　pass。〃

He　put　Grey　Molly　into　an　easy　trot；　for　the　floor　of　the　pass　dipped　up　and　down；　littered　with　sharp…toothed　rocks　or　treacherous；　rolling　ones；　as　bad　a　place　for　speed　as　a　stiff　upslope。　According　to　his　nicest　calculation　the　posse　could　not　reach　the　edge　of　the　gulch　before　he　was　at　the　farther　side；　out　of　range　of　everything　except　a　long　chance　shot；　so　he　took　note　of　things　as　he　went　and　observed　a　spot　of　pale　silver　skirting　through　the　brush　on　the　eastern　ridge　of　the　gorge。　There　would　be　moonlight　that　night　and　another　chance　in　favor　of　Pete　Glass。　He　remembered　then；　with　quiet　content；　that　jogging　in　the　holster　was　a　power　which　with　six　words　might　stop　those　six　pursuers。

A　long　halloo　came　barking　down　the　pass；　now　drawling　out；　now　cut　away　to　silence　as　the　angling　cliffs　sent　on　the　echo；　and　Vic　loosened　the　rein。　Grey　Molly　swung　out　with　a　snort　of　relief　to　a　free…swinging　gallop　and　they　swept　down　a　great；　gentle　slope　where　new　grass　padded　the　fall　of　her　hoofs；　yet　even　then　he　kept　the　mare　checked　and　held　her　in　touch　with　an　easily　playing　wrist。　He　did　not　imagine　that　even　the　sheriff　on　the　dusty　roan　would　dream　of　trying　to　swallow　up　Grey　Molly　in　a　short　sprint　but　that　assurance　nearly　cost　Vic　his　life。　The　roar　of　hoofs　in　the　gulch　belched　out　into　the　comparative　silence　of　the　open　space　beyond　and　just　as　he　gave　the　mare　her　head　a　gun　coughed　and　an　angry　humming　darted　past　his　ear。

Molly　lengthened　into　full　speed。　He　could　not　tell　on　account　of　the　muffling　grass　whether　the　pursuit　was　gaining　or　losing。　He　trusted　blindly　to　the　mare　and　when　he　looked　back　they　were　already　pulling　their　mounts　down　to　a　hand　gallop。　That　would　teach　them　to　match　Molly　in　a　sprint；　roan　or　no　roan！

He　slapped　her　below　the　withers；　where　the　long；　hard　muscles　rippled　back　and　forth。　She　was　full　of　running；　her　gallop　as　light　as　the　toss　of　a　bough　in　the　wind；　and　now　as　he　pulled　her　back　to　a　swinging　canter　her　head　went　high；　with　pricking　ears。　Suddenly　his　heart　went　out　to　her；　she　would　run　like　that　till　she　died；　he　knew。

〃Good　girl；〃　he　whispered　huskily。

The　day　was　paling　towards　the　end　when　he　headed　into　the　foothills　of　the　White　Mountains。　He　drew　up　Molly　for　a　breath　on　a　level　shoulder。　Already　he　was　close　to　the　snow　line　with