As Kansas Kimball raised his weapon to fire,the man before him uttered a cry of terror and began to entreat for his life.In the full light of the dazzling moon,his face showed all the pallor,all the contortions of a coward who,though believing himself lost,has not the resolution to mask his fear.He poured forth incoherent promises of secrecy,ejaculations of despair and frenzied assurances of innocence.
Hold on,Kansas!interposed Red.There's not a one of the bunch believes that story about the last wagon getting away,and the dying wife.We know this Gledware is a spy,whatever he says,and that he brought the kid along for protection.He knew if we got back to No-Man's Land we couldn't be touched,not being under no jurisdiction,and he wanted to find us with our paint and feathers off.He's a sneaking dog,and a bullet's too good for him.But --with an oath--blessed if he don't hate to die worse than any man ever I saw!I don't mind to spare him a few minutes if he's agreeable.I put it to him--would he rather the kid be put out of the way first,and him afterwards,or does he want the first call?
For God's sake,put it off as long as you will!quavered the prisoner.I swear I'm no spy.I swear--
This is unpleasant,the captain of the highwaymen interposed.Just you say another word,and I'll put daylight into you with my own hand.Stand there and keep mum,and I'll give you a little breathing space.
Kansas,not without a sigh of relief,lowered his weapon and looked questioningly at his brother.The shadow of the log cabin was upon him,making more sinister his uncouth attire,and his lean vindictive face under the huge Mexican hat.Gledware,not daring to move,kept his eyes fixed on that deep gloom out of which at any moment might spurt forth the red flash of death.From within the cabin came loud oaths inspired by cards or drink,as if the inmates would drown any calls for mercy or sounds of execution that might be abroad in the night.
Now,Brick Willock,the leader spoke grimly,take your turn first.That kid's got to die,and you are to do the trick,and do it without any foolishness.
I can't,Willock declared doggedly.
Oh,yes;yes,you can,Brick.You see,we can't 'tend to no infant class,and I ain't hard-hearted enough to leave a five-year-old girl to die of hunger on the prairie;nor do I mean to take her to no town or stage-station as a card for to be tracked by.Oh,yes,you can,Brick,and now's the time.
Red,exclaimed Willock desperately,I tell you fair,and I tell you foul,that this little one lives as long as I do.
And what do you aim to do with her,eh,Brick?
Willock made no reply.He had formed no plans for his future,or for that of the child;but his left arm closed more tightly about her.
