Читать книгу The Coyote - James Roberts - Страница 18

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For the space of several seconds Rathburn and his captive looked into each other’s eyes. Rathburn’s gaze was keen, alert, fired by the quick thinking he was doing. Stark terror showed in the other’s look which gradually changed to one of haunting fear and indecision. Then his eyes became clear and he returned Rathburn’s glance, cool and questioning.

“Get your horse,” ordered Rathburn, running to his own mount.

In a twinkling he had tightened his cinch, caught up the reins, and vaulted into the saddle. His captive was at his side shortly afterward.

“You’re still in the lead,” Rathburn snapped out; “unless you want to wait for ’em.”

The other whirled his horse, sent him flying for the western end of the pocket, with Rathburn close behind. They went up a steep, rocky trail, screened by boulders. When they reached the top of the west rim they looked back and saw four horsemen on the shale slope leading to the pocket. Brown evidently had split up his posse and was literally combing the hills for his quarry.

“They’ll know they’re on the right trail when they see the remains of our dinner an’ my pack down there,” remarked Rathburn dryly.

“But they haven’t seen us yet,” said Percy breathlessly. “If we can make Sunrise Cañon Trail we can lose ’em in the mountains––that is if you want to lose ’em.”