The Mountain DivideSpearman, Frank H. (Frank Hamilton)
General
The Mountain Divide
Spearman, Frank H. (Frank Hamilton)
Western stories
Whatever had held Bucks spellbound thus far released him suddenly for
action when he saw the rifle-stock raised and heard the crash of the
glass. He jumped up, and running to the edge of the ledge nearest the
station yelled at the marauder and shook his finger at him vigorously.
The attack on his habitation was too much for Bucks's composure, and,
although he knew his words could not be heard from where he stood, he
felt he could frighten the intruders.
This was his second mistake. No sooner had his visitors sighted him
than two guns were turned on him and instantly fired. He jumped back
before the fat man, who, slower than his companions, had some
difficulty in shooting so high above his head, could get his gun up.
Afterward, Bucks learned how providential this was, inasmuch as the
big fellow was the deadliest shot of the three.
But at the moment, danger was the last thing the operator thought of.
The unprovoked and murderous attack infuriated him, and again
forgetting his caution he drew his own revolver without hesitation,
and, running to a more protected spot, leaned over the ledge and fired
point-blank into the group, as they looked up to see what had become
of him.
If it had been his intention to hit any one of them with his bullets,
his shooting was a failure and some experience in after years among
men practised in gunnery convinced him that to aim at three men is not
the right way to hit one.
But if he had meant only to create a sensation his move was successful
beyond his greatest expectation. Had a bomb been exploded on the
platform the marauders could not have scattered more quickly. Bucks
never in his life had seen three men move so fast. The fat man,
indeed, had given Bucks the impression of being heavy and slow in his
movements. He now made a surprising exhibition of agility, and Bucks
to his astonishment, saw him distancing his leaner companions and
sprinting for the shelter at a pace that would have made a jack-rabbit
take notice.
Bucks, somewhat keyed up, fired twice again at the fleeing men, but
with no more effect than to kick up the dust once behind and once
ahead of them as they ran. The instant they reached the rocks where
they found shelter Bucks drew back out of sight, and none too soon,
for as he pulled himself away from the ledge, a rifle cracked
viciously from below and the slug threw a chunk of granite almost up
into his face; the fat man was evidently having his innings.
Bucks, out of immediate danger, lay perfectly still for a few moments
casting up the strange situation he found himself in. Why the men
should have acted as they had, was all a mystery, but thieves or
outlaws they evidently were, and outlaws in this country he already
well knew were men who would stop at nothing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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