lla.theburninghills-第20节

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ason　to　remain　longer　for　the　horses　were　not　resting　and　it　was　doubtful　if　Maria　Cristina　would　sleep。
　It　was　raining　in　the　mountains　and　soon　the　washes　would　be　running　bank…full；　wild　torrents　of　water　rushing　down　from　the　barren　slopes　of　the　mountains　to　turn　their　dry　beds　into　raging　rivers　for　a　few　short　hours。　The　canyons　would　be　running　twenty　feet　deep　in　roaring　water　soon　。。。　A　spatter　of　rain　fell。。。　then　another。　He　went　to　his　saddle　for　his　slicker　and　from　Maria　Cristina's　saddle　he　got　her　poncho　and　spread　it　over　her。
　At　the　moment　he　spread　it　over　her　the　lightning　flashed。
　She　was　apparently　sleeping　soundly；　her　face　in　repose；　lovely　as　a　madonna。　All　the　fierce　anger；　the　sudden　aloofness；　all　that　was　gone。
　He　reached　down　and　touched　her　hair。　So　black　。。。　so　very　black。　Like　midnight　caught　in　a　web。　For　a　moment　he　held　a　strand　in　his　fingers；　then　replaced　it　gently　and　got　to　his　feet　He　took　up　his　rifle　and　started　back　to　his　place　at　the　edge　of　the　brush　and　he　did　not　see　her　hand　e　up　and　touch　the　strand　of　hair　he　had　caressed。　Nor　did　he　see　her　eyes；　wide　open　in　the　darkness。
　There　were　scattered　dashes　of　rain　and　gusts　of　wind。　He　watched　the　lightning…lit　desert　for　an　hour　and　then　another。　And　then　it　was　suddenly　colder　and　in　a　lightning　flash　he　saw　a　solid　wall　of　rain　advancing　across　the　desert。　Swiftly　he　came　to　his　feet　and　turned　toward　the　camp。
　Maria　Cristina　was　up；　rolling　her　bed。　She　glanced　around　at　him；　her　words　torn　by　the　wind。　〃We　go；　yes？〃
　〃Better　。。。　horses　might　stampede。　Anyway；　we　can't　rest　and　they　won't。〃
　He　saddled　up　in　a　driving；　pelting　rain。　Both　got　onto　their　horses　and　started　north。　Rain　hammered　their　backs　in　savage　gusts　and　the　horses　moved　out　fast；　glad　to　be　moving　ahead　of　the　storm　and　away　from　the　whipping　brush。
　All　night　they　drifted　before　the　storm。　Twice　they　crossed　deep　washes　only　minutes　before　rolling　walls　of　water　swept　down　and　once　lightning　struck　so　near　they　smelled　the　sharp　odor　of　sulphur　in　the　air　and　their　scalps　prickled　with　electricity。
　Suddenly；　ahead　of　them；　they　heard　a　vast　roar。　Then　they　saw　a　canyon　running　with　a　tremendous　rush　of　water。　There　was　no　question　of　getting　through。　No　question　at　all。　That　water　might　be　ten　feet　deep　or　forty　feet　and　no　horse　living　could　swim　in　that　mighty　torrent
　Lightning　flashed　and　Trace　Jordan　caught　Maria　Cristina's　shoulder；　gesturing　toward　some　rocks。　They　rode　toward　it　and　found　an　overhang　with　its　back　to　the　storm。
　Once　under　the　rock　they　were　out　of　the　rain　and　away　from　the　wind。　He　swung　down　and　lifted　her　from　the　horse。　Then　he　led　the　two　horses　deeper　into　the　cavernlike　overhang　and　tied　them　to　a　limb　of　cedar　that　stretched　into　the　gloom。
　Rain　swept　by　the　opening　and　the　wind　was　cold。　He　glanced　at　Maria　Cristina　and　she　was　shivering。　Her　legs　from　the　knees　down　were　wet。
　Heedless　of　risk；　he　gathered　dry　sticks　and　built　a　fire。　The　horses　were　restless　and　frightened　by　the　storm　but　a　fire　would　calm　them。　Most　horses　accustomed　to　campfires　enjoy　their　presence　and　all　night　long　will　feed　closer　and　then　away　from　the　fire；　liking　its　friendliness　and　assurance　of　panionship。
　There　was　a　pack　rat's　nest　that　offered　a　liberal　supply　of　dry　wood　and　by　now　it　was　close　to　dawn。　There　would　be　no　light　this　morning　until　late　for　the　sky　was　heavily　overcast　still　and　there　was　no　evidence　of　a　break。
　How　far　they　had　e　he　had　no　idea　but　the　storm　would　have　wiped　out　their　trail　pletely。　There　was　a　very　good　chance　they　were　free　at　last。　Not　even　Lantz　could　find　tracks　where　there　were　none。
　With　daylight　he　should　recognize　this　country。　Now　they　were　again　in　an　area　with　which　he　was　familiar。　North　of　them；　not　too　far　away　now；　was　the　San　Bernardino　Ranch　and　he　had　visited　the　place；　had　covered　all　that　country　north　to　Tucson　and　even　to　Prescott　and　Congress。
　Shivering；　they　huddled　near　the　fire。　The　big　red　horse　stamped　and　there　was　a　momentary　lull　in　the　storm。
　〃Tomorrow　we　will　be　safe。　I　know　the　man　on　this　ranch。　He　is　a　hard　man　but　a　good　man。〃
　〃I　hope。〃
　〃He　is　。。。　his　name　is　Slaughter。〃
　〃He　has　kill　men。〃
　〃Yes　。。。　when　they　needed　it〃　He　added　fuel　to　the　fire。　〃So　have　I。〃
　〃Before　this？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃How　many？〃
　〃Four　。。。　five；　maybe。〃
　They　waited　out　a　blast　of　wind。　Some　rain　whipped　into　the　overhang　and　the　fire　hissed　and　spluttered。
　〃You　never　tell　me：　Why　you　kill　Bob　Sutton？〃
　Taking　his　time；　he　explained　about　Johnny　Hendrix　and　the　horses。　He　told　her　of　working　through　stampede　and　storm；　through　the　dust　of　long　cat…tie　drives　and　the　smell　of　burning　hair　around　branding　fires。　And　then　of　their　months　of　effort　to　catch；　brand　and　tame　the　horses；　of　this　struggle　to　bee　something　more　than　mere　cowhands；　to　begin　a　business　of　their　own。　Then　he　told　of　his　return　from　Durango　and　of　finding　the　body　of　his　friend。
　〃Jack　Sutton；〃　she　said；　〃that　was　like　him。　And　Mort　Bayless；　I　think。　He　is　another。〃
　Trace　Jordan　went　to　the　pack　rat's　nest　for　fuel。　He　dropped　an　armful　near　the　fire　and　then　walked　around　the　fire　to　sit　down。　But　he　stopped　there；　looking　out　into　the　morning。
　Without　their　being　aware　of　it　the　sky　had　grown　lighter。　Outside　the　overhang　the　brush　and　trees　bent　stark　and　black　before　driving　sheets　of　rain。　Water　stood　on　the　desert　in　scattered　pools　that　reflected　the　vague　light；　pools　like　mirrors　of　steel　under　the　lowering　sky；　gray　and　black　with　rain…weighted　clouds。
　All　this　Jordan　saw。　All　that　and　something　more。　He　saw　also　five　rain…wet　horses　and　five　mounted　men　and　all　those　men　had　rifles　and　all　of　them　were　looking　at　him。
　So　。。。　this　far　they　had　e　and　this　close　…　and　all　for　nothing　at　all。
　He　stood　very　still；　yet　his　mind　reached　swiftly　forward。　As　at　all　such　times　the　minute　seems　to　stand　still　in　which　each　detail　is　impressed　upon　the　mind。
　He　recognized　the　blocky　man　with　the　hard　square　face　who　would　be　Ben　Hindeman。　The　narrow　features　of　old　Jacob　Lantz　and　there　were　others　whom　he　had　never　known　and　probably　would　never　know。　He　saw　their　horses　and　three　of　those　horses　had　belonged　to　him。
　He　saw　them　and　he　saw　their　guns　and　knew　the　chase　was　over。　He　knew　that　his　raincoat　was　open；　that　his　guns　were　at　his　thighs；　that　he　could　kill　one；　two　or　even　three　men　before　they　got　him。
　It　could　be　done。　It　had　been　done。　Mysterious　Dave　Mathers　had　killed　five　men　in　a　gun　battle　in　Dodge；　modore　Perry　Owen　had　shot　down　four　in　Holbrook。
　But　Maria　Cristina　sat　by　the　fire　close　to　him　and　she　might　be　hit　or　she　would　be　left　to　the　vengeance　of　those　who　did　not　fall。
　〃Howdy；　boys；〃　he　spoke　casually。　〃Kind　of　wet　out　there；　ain't　it？〃
　At　his　voice；　Maria　Cristina　looked　up。　Her　face　stiffened　with　shock　and　she　got　to　her　knees。
　The　heavy　man　in　the　slicker　studied　Jordan　through　the　rain。　It　was　no　wonder；　Hindeman　thought；　that　it　had　taken　so　long。　Lantz　was　right；　this　man　was　a　curly　wolf　。。。　with　his　back　to　the　wall。
　Jacob　Lantz　sat　a　little　apart。　He　sat　his　saddle；　looking　at　Jordan。
　〃You　killed　Old　Bob？〃　Hindeman　made　a　statement；　rather　than　asked　a　question。
　〃He　went　for　his　gun。〃
　〃But　you　killed　him　。。。　why？〃
　〃You　know　why。　He　was　riding　a　stolen　horse。　Stolen　from　me。〃　He　nodded　his　head　to　indicate　their　own　horses。　〃That　steeldust　is　mine；　so's　the　sorrel。　And　that　dun　answers　to　the　name　of　Pet。〃
　He　looked　at　the　horse。　〃Pet！〃　he　spoke　sharply。　The　dun's　head　came　up；　ears　pricked。
　The　riders　sat　silent。　Hindeman　was　unmoved　but　Joe　Sutton　had　a　guilty　feeling。　No　question　about　it；　these　horses　had　been　stolen　and　from　this　man。　The　feeling　touched　them　all　and　made　them　uneasy；　less　sure　of　their　ground。
　〃Makes　no　difference　now；〃　Hindeman　said。　〃We're　goin'　to　hang　you。〃
　〃Don't　say　we　。。。　there's　three；　maybe　four　of　you　aren't　goin'　to　hang　me。　Maybe　none　of　you　will。　Wait　until　the　shootin's　over。。。　plenty　of　time　to　talk　about　hangin'〃
　Ben　Hindeman　studied　the　man　and　Ben　was　no　fool。　They　were　five　to　one　。。。　unless　the　girl　declared　herself　in　and　it　was　likely　she　would。　She　had　been　quick　enough　to　take　a　shot　at　Jack；　that　day。
　Five　to　one。　They　had　their　rifle　muzzles　down；　for　the　discovery　of　the　hiding　place　had　been　sheer　accident。　They　had　only　to　lift　their　rifles　but　this　man　had　only　to　draw；　and　Ben　Hindeman　knew　any　man　who　could　beat　Old　Bob　on　an　even　break　and　who　could　outguess　Jack　Sutton　would　be　fast　and　sure。
　No　question　about　it；　somebody　was　going　to　die　if　shooting　started。
　〃You　throw　down　your　guns；〃　he　said；　〃then　the　girl　won't　get　hurt。〃
　〃No！〃
　Maria　Cristma's　voice　laid　across　the　morning　like　a　whip。　〃Do　not　do　it！　They　will　only　kill　you！　If　you　put　down　the　guns；　I　will　shoot！〃
　Ben　Hindeman　sat　stolidly　on　his　horse　in　the　hard　falling　rain。　For　the　first　time　in　his　life　he　was　utterly　at　a　stalemate。
　Maria　Cristina　would　shoot　and　she　had　a　rifle。　They　might　kill　her　but　Ben　Hindeman　could　not　see　a　woman　killed。　Not　like　this。
　He　looked　from　the　woman　to　the　man；　this　lean　fierce　unbeat