Free The First Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone

thing as a fair fight.”
    â€œOh, I cain’t walk!” Rod moaned. “The bomb done crippled me. Don’t abandon me, boys.”
    â€œFool!” Bum yelled. “That’s Leo sittin’ on our legs. You ain’t hurt.”
    â€œThe whole side of my face is bloody,” Adam squalled. “Look at me. Did it blow my face off, boys?”
    Preacher scooped up a double handful of dirt and wrapped it up in a piece of cloth. He fashioned a fuse and lit it. He yelled, “Here comes another one, boys!” Then he chucked it over the logs.
    Wild panic broke out in the narrow space as the outlaws began screaming and cussing and literally running over each other in their haste to depart the scene. Preacher crawled forward, pushing the burning brands the thugs had tossed into the cave in front of him. He stacked them up all around the front of the lashed-together logs and then hustled back around the bend in the passageway to safety.
    â€œIt was a dud!” Jack shouted.
    â€œLong-burnin’ fuse!” Preacher yelled.
    â€œYou’re a liar, Preacher,” Bum shouted.
    â€œLook!” Moses shouted. “The barricade’s on far.”
    â€œGrab some dirt and put it out, boys!” Bum yelled.
    Preacher decided he’d had enough fun and lit the long fuse leading to the charge behind the rocks above the barricade. He grabbed his gear and headed out the mouth of the cave. He figured he had maybe thirty seconds to vacate the area before all that powder blew.
    He misjudged it slightly. The fuse burned quickly and then touched the powder. The concussion rocked the ground beneath his moccasins when it exploded.
    The huge rock and dozens of smaller ones came tumbling down, completely blocking the passage and sealing that entrance to the little valley.
    Oue rock bounced off Moses’s head and knocked the thug sprawling to the earth, addling him. Jack Harris took a stone right between the eyes and it knocked him cold.
    Bum Kelly assessed the damage and threw his hat to the ground and cursed.
    In the valley, sitting his saddle, Preacher threw back his head and howled like a great gray wolf. Then he laughed and headed for the waterfall.
    * * *
    Preacher led his party through the blow-down and headed westward into the Grand Tetons. He figured he had bought them at least two days and maybe as many as four.
    Behind him, Bum Kelley and his outlaws had staggered out of the passageway to fall exhausted on the ground. All of them were cut, bruised, and bleeding from wounds ranging from minor to serious.
    â€œLet’s start checkin’ each other out,” Bum finally spoke, heaving himself up off the ground. He swayed slightly on his boots. “Unless you boys want to give up on gettin’ the gold and them women.”
    The outlaws gave him grim looks.
    â€œNot damn likely,” Bum muttered darkly. “But I want Preacher worser than I want anything else. I want to stick his feet into a far and burn him slow.”
    â€œYeah,” Bobby moaned the word. He looked at the bloody bandage that covered where some toes had been. He was alternately working on a piece of deerskin, making a crude moccasin, and moaning through his pain. “I wanna gouge his eyes out.”
    â€œI’m gonna cut him,” Beckman said. “And that’s just for starters.” He looked at his wounded leg and cussed.
    Slug was splinting his broken ankle over the damage done by the .50 caliber ball. “I’m gonna rape both them women and make Preacher watch. Then I’m gonna skin him. Slow.”
    Bum smiled grimly. He knew there would be no stopping these men now. Now it was a matter of honor with them. Preacher had shamed them all and if need be, they would track him right up to and through the gates of hell for revenge.
    But, Bum thought, to make matters even worser, as soon as Preacher reached some post or settlement, he would tell the story, and really juice it up.