Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
Red, watching from the top of the cliff, noticed that the occasional
gun flashes were moving steadily northwestward and believed it safe to
leave his position and take an active hand in the events below. After
their experience on the up-slanting trail the Mexicans would hardly
attempt it again, even though they managed to get back to the foot of
it, which seemed very improbable. The thought became action and the
trail guard started to wriggle down the declivity, keeping close to
the bottom of the wall, where the shadows were darkest. Because of
the necessity for not being seen his progress was slow and quite some
time elapsed before he reached the bottom and obtained cover among the
scattered rocks. The infrequent reports were further away now, and
they seemed to be getting further eastward. This meant that they were
nearer to the hut, and his decision was made in a flash. The hut must
not be won by the fugitives, and he arose and ran for it, bent over
and risking safety for speed. After what seemed to be a long time he
reached the little cleared space among the rocks, bounded across it,
and leaped into the black interior of the hut. Wheeling, he leaned
against the rear wall to recover his breath, watching the open door, a
grim smile on his face. While keeping his weary watch up on the rim he
had craved action, and congratulated himself that he now was a great
deal nearer to it than he was before.
Meanwhile the two fugitives, not stomaching a real stand against the
men whom they had seen exhibit their abilities in Kane's gambling-hall,
had managed to work on a circular course until they were northwest of
the hut and not far from it. This they were enabled to do because they
were not held to a slow and cautious advance by enemies ahead of them,
as were the old Bar-20 pair. They were moving toward the hut, not far
from the north wall of the valley, when they blundered upon Trask. In
a moment he was released and began a frantic search for his gun, which
he found among the rocks not far away. Losing no time he hurried off to
release the man he would have robbed, glad to have his assistance. Kane
went into action like a spring released and began a hot search for his
Colt. When he found it, the cylinder was missing and suspicious noises
not far away from him forced him to abandon the search and seek better
cover, armed only with a deadly and efficient steel club.
Hopalong and Johnny, guided entirely by hearing, followed the
infrequent low sounds in front of them, thinking that they were made
by the Mexicans, and drew steadily away from the hut. The Mexicans,
motionless in their cover, exulted as their scheme worked out and
finally went on again with no one to oppose them. Reaching the last of
the rocky cover they arose and ran across the open, leaped into the hut
and turned, chuckling, to close the door, leaving Trask to his fate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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