lla.theburninghills-第14节

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love　of　it。　Yet　his　own　danger　increases；　for　now　men　wish　to　kill　him。　So　he　bees　a　destroyer　with　a　hand　ever　ready　to　grasp　the　gun。
　In　Maria　Cristrna　he　had　found　someone　he　could　not　frighten；　nor　could　he　believe　she　was　innocent　of　blame　during　those　visits　on　the　shelf。　What　he　wished　now　was　to　find　Jordan　and　kill　him　before　her　eyes。　He　wanted　to　break　her　spirit　and；　at　the　same　time；　to　prove　his　own　superiority。　So　he　was　in　no　hurry　to　catch　up；　wanting　her　only　to　lead　him　to　Jordan。
　It　was　very　hot　when　the　sun　came　up　and　the　country　through　which　Maria　Cristina　rode　became　increasingly　dry。　Yet　by　an　hour　after　dawn　she　was　sure　she　was　being　followed。
　This　was　dry　country　and　behind　her　she　had　seen　a　plume　of　dust。　It　was　such　a　dust　cloud　as　would　be　left　by　one　rider。　And　that　could　only　mean　that　Jack　Sutton　was　behind　her。
　Twice　she　varied　her　direction；　choosing　a　likely　route；　then　an　unlikely　one。　She　used　every　subtefurge　she　could　think　of　and　she　deliberately　avoided　water　holes。　All　that　morning　she　refused　herself　even　a　swallow　of　water；　although　twice　she　paused　to　sponge　the　mouth　of　her　horse。
　She　told　herself　she　was　going　to　Trace　Jordan　for　two　reasons：　because　sooner　or　later　she　believed　she　would　be　killed　by　Jack　Sutton　and　because　she　was　afraid　Jordan　would　return。
　Dust　mounted　in　her　nostrils。　Dust　caked　her　face　and　sifted　over　her　clothing。　Sweat　streaked　the　dust。　The　horse　plodded　wearily　on。
　Maria　Cristina　did　not　believe　she　could　deceive　Jacob　Lantz　for　long　but　she　might　lose　Jack　Sutton。　His　very　confidence　might　defeat　him。　Yet　she　must　try　to　outwit　Lantz　as　well　and　when　they　reached　a　long　rocky　shelf；　she　decided　the　time　had　e。　She　pulled　up　and　dismounted。
　Jacob　Lantz　was　the　first　to　awaken。　The　sky　was　gray　when　he　opened　his　eyes　and　then；　as　realization　dawned；　he　sprang　up。　Swearing　bitterly；　he　ran　to　the　house。　The　light　still　burned　but　a　quick　search　revealed　everything。
　〃Gone！〃　he　shouted。　〃She　got　away！　Tricked　like　a　lot　of　tenderfeet！〃
　Ben　Hindeman's　head　ached　violently　but　he　hurriedly　saddled　up。　There　were　extra　horses　in　the　barn　and　at　the　last　minute；　Joe　Sutton　returned　to　join　them。
　Lantz　went　to　his　cup　and　found　the　dregs　of　what　he　had　drunk。　He　touched　his　tongue　to　it；　tasting。　〃Toloache！〃　he　spat　viciously　and　went　swiftly　to　his　horse。
　〃Somethin'　here；〃　he　said　a　few　minutes　later。　〃Jack's　followin'　her。〃
　Shrewd　in　the　ways　of　hunted　and　hunting　men；　Lantz　understood　why　Jack　Sutton　hung　back。　He　believed　she　would　lead　him　to　Jordan。　Would　she　do　it？
　Through　the　hot　still　morning　he　worked　out　their　trails；　yet　he　noticed　Jack's　only　in　passing。　It　was　the　girl　he　must　follow。
　When　her　trail　finally　petered　out　on　the　rocky　shelf；　Jack　was　already　gone。　Somewhere　back　along　the　route　she　had　tricked　him。　Lantz　worked　patiently。　He　found　the　tiny　white　scar　made　by　a　hoof　on　sandstone　but　it　was　the　last　one。
　He　circled；　then　circled　wider　still。　Neither　heat　nor　thirst　disturbed　him。　The　glare　of　the　sun　squinted　his　eyes　but　he　continued　to　search。　He　stopped　suddenly　。。。　a　tiny　red　thread。　He　chuckled　as　he　picked　it　up。
　〃What's　so　funny？〃　Bayless　demanded　irritably。
　〃Gal's　smart。　Tied　rags　around　her　horse's　hoofs。〃
　No　use　to　try　and　follow　her　now。　There　would　be　few　marks；　maybe　miles　apart　Working　out　such　a　trail　might　take　weeks。　But　it　would　not　be　necessary。
　Cottonwood　Creek　was　dry　at　this　time　of　year。　So　was　Cowboy　Spring；　Somebody　had　blown　out　the　dam　at　millsite；　so　where；　then；　would　she　go？
　Jordan　had　been　with　her　before　he　left。　She　knew　she　would　be　followed　so　she　would　try　to　lead　them　off　the　trail。　So　then；　he　could　figure　that　the　trail　was　faked。　To　circle　around　to　a　water　hole　in　any　other　direction　would　not　take　a　day　or　two　days　but　a　week。　Therefore；　somewhere　in　that　vast　expanse　to　the　south；　Trace　Jordan　had　to　be　waiting　for　her。
　One　by　one　he　ticked　off　the　possibilities；　then　。。。　〃Got　an　idea；〃　he　said。　They　mounted　and　followed　him。　Yet　three　hours　later　when　they　rode　up　to　Wolf　Pen　Tank　there　were　no　tracks　around　and　green　scum　covered　the　water。　Not　even　a　stray　steer　。。。
　Angrily　Lantz　bit　off　a　chew　of　tobacco。　Now　where　in　tarnation！
　He　swore　bitterly；　remembering。　Old　Chavero　had　once　holed　up　for　several　days　at　that　intermittent　stream　that　came　out　of　the　ground　near　the　pinnacles。　〃That's　it！〃　he　said。　〃That's　it！〃　Bayless　swore。　〃How　long's　this　goin'　on？〃
　〃e　on；〃　Hindeman　said；　〃well　find　'em。〃　They　left　Wolf　Pen　at　a　brisk　trot。　The　afternoon　was　well　along　and　in　a　short　time　it　would　be　cool　and　they　could　move　faster。
　At　dusk　Trace　Jordan　pulled　the　picket　pin　and　saddled　up。　Then　he　led　the　red　horse　to　the　path　that　led　out　the　back　way。　He　was　restless　and　worried；　unable　to　sit　down　or　relax。　His　wound　was　itching　。。。　it　must　be　healing。　He　drank　more　water　and　moved　to　where　he　could　look　down　the　trail。　There　was　nothing　in　sight。
　Yet　he　had　almost　dozed　off　when　he　heard　the　sound　of　a　walking　horse。
　He　came　to　his　feet；　Winchester　in　hand。　Twice　as　he　listened　the　horse　stumbled。　It　was　very　tired。　He　shifted　the　rifle　to　his　left　hand　and　touched　his　pistol。　He　moved　to　the　patch　of　meadow；　passing　soundlessly　through　the　grass。　The　moon　was　just　ing　over　the　rocks　and　the　meadow　was　bathed　in　pale　light。　Ghostlike　the　horse　and　rider　materialized　from　the　dakness。
　Jordan　started　to　her；　seeing　her　hair　against　the　light。　Then　faintly；　far　or　close　he　could　not　guess；　he　heard　another　sound。
　〃You　are　here？〃　She　spoke　softly；　yet　her　words　carried。　He　did　not　reply。　Somebody　or　something　was　out　there　in　the　darkness。　Somebody　who　also　listened。
　She　walked　her　horse　deeper　into　the　clearing。　She　made　a　silent　lonely　figure；　like　an　Indian　woman　on　her　horse。　〃You　are　here？〃　There　was　a　plaintive　lost　tone　in　her　voice　that　twisted　his　heart。
　He　waited　and　in　the　stillness　there　was　no　sound。　She　sat　still　upon　her　horse；　waiting　for　some　response。　He　could　almost　feel　the　hope　going　out　of　her。　Was　he；　as　she　must　have　believed；　only　another　man　who　would　ride　away？　Had　he　taken　her　help；　let　her　get　into　a　corner　and　then　left　her　alone？　Desperately　he　wanted　to　speak；　to　cry　out；　to　…
　〃No；〃　it　was　another　voice；　〃he　ain't　here。　But　I　am。〃
　A　tall　man　in　a　conical　hat　stepped　from　the　shadows。　She　tried　to　start　her　horse　as　he　grabbed　at　it　but　the　horse　was　too　tired　to　move　quickly。　Sutton　grabbed　the　bridle　and　jerked　the　horse　around　and　then　he　reached　for　Maria。
　Trace　Jordan　picked　up　a　small　stick　and　tossed　it　into　the　brash　a　dozen　feet　away。　It　lit　in　the　brush　and　instantly　the　man　by　the　horse　turned　and　Jordan　saw　moonlight　on　a　gun　barrel。
　Sutton　waited；　his　gun　poised。　Then　he　relaxed　slowly。　〃Animal；''　he　said　aloud。　He　turned　toward　Maria　Cristina。　〃Now　I'm　goin'　to　finish　what　I　started；〃
　She　was　still　too　close　to　him。　There　was　too　much　risk　of　her　being　hit　if　shooting　started。　Jordan　picked　up　a　small　stone　and　tossed　it　into　the　brush　across　the　clearing。　Sutton　froze　in　place；　listening。　Then　he　holstered　his　gun。　〃Get　down；〃　he　said；　〃or　I'll　pull　you　down。〃
　Maria　Cristina　had　sat　still；　apparently　too　weary　to　move；　too　defeated　to　try。　Now　she　moved　suddenly。　She　threw　her　leg　over　the　horse　and　dropped　to　the　ground　on　the　opposite　side。　She　slapped　the　horse　and　he　lunged。　Sutton　sprang　back　and　Maria　Cristina　dropped　into　the　blackness　at　the　edge　of　the　brush　and　was　absolutely　still
　Jack　Sutton　stood　alone　in　the　clearing；　staring　at　the　shadows；　listening　for　her　breathing。　〃Do　you　no　good；〃　he　said　conversationally。　〃I'll　have　it　my　way　now。　Ben　ain't　here　to　stop　me。〃
　There　was　a　faint　whisper　of　grass　around　Trace　Jordan's　feet　as　he　moved。　Trace　Jordan　was　going　to　kill　a　man。　He　had　to　kill　and　not　be　killed　for　she　must　not　be　left　alone　with　Jack　Sutton。　He　stopped　and　he　knew　Sutton　could　see　him。
　〃Who　is　it？〃　Sutton　demanded。　〃Buck？　Ben？〃
　Tension　was　building　but　more　for　Sutton　than　for　him。　He　knew　whom　he　faced；　Sutton　saw　only　a　shadow　in　the　night。　〃Speak　up！〃　Sutton　said　impatiently。　〃Who　are　you？〃
　〃I　reckon　I'm　the　man　you　been　hunting；〃　Jordan　said；　〃unless　you　hunt　only　women。〃
　
　Chapter　Four
　The　night　was　cool。　Jack　Sutton　stood　very　still；　hearing　the　slow　heavy　beat　of　his　heart。　He　wished　he　could　see　Trace　Jordan。　This　shadowy　figure　worried　him。　There　was　no　personality　there；　only　something　dark；　indefinite；　indistinct。
　Never；　since　the　beginning；　had　he　seen　this　man。　His　partner　he　had　killed　and　he　had　helped　to　pursue　him　and　bring　him　to　this　moment　but　never　once　in　all　that　time　had　he　actually　seen　Trace　Jordan。
　You　could　not　look　into　his　eyes；　you　could　not　measure　the　man。　It　disturbed　Sutton　but　did　not　make　him　less　confident。
　〃I　figure　you're　one　of　those　who　murdered　my　partner；〃　Jordan　said。
　Sutton　wondered　if　Jordan　could　see　his　gun　hand。　It　was　dangling　at　his　side　but　he　began　to　inch　it　higher。　〃Sure。〃　His　voice　was　taunting。　〃I'm　one　of　them。　Fact　is；　it　was　my　idea。〃
　His　hand　was　at　the　bottom　of　the　holster　as　he　spoke。　He　had　only　to　bend　his　elbow　to