Free Trigger Gospel by Harry Sinclair Drago Page B

much thicker we won’t know what we’re shootin’ at.”
    Beaudry divided his forces now, as Bill had foreseen. Ten minutes later three of his men leaped over the crest to the left of the house and made a dash for the springs. Another ran for the tree that Chilton had failed to reach. This man was turned back too, but the other three made the rock watering-trough beside the springs.
    â€œThey crease you, Bill?” Luther demanded anxiously as he saw a trickle of blood run down his brother’s cheek.
    â€œNo, just a chip of rock caught me,” Little Bill muttered. He realized that the three men at the trough could advance under cover of a fusillade from their companions. “Things ain’t workin’ out so well for us,” he went on. “If those gents out there make a rush for the door we’ll have to drop ’em or it’ll be all over with us.”
    â€œIt ain’t what we want to do,” Luther murmured gravely, “but there’s some things you can’t walk away from. I’m afraid I winged the hombre that tried to reach the tree.”
    â€œI’m goin’ to try to get ’em out from behind the trough,” Bill told him. “You hold Six-gun steady there in the corner so I can stand on the saddle. I’m goin’ to fire over the top of the wall. They’ll be right under my gun. I’ll give ’em a chance to back away if they want it. If they don’t take it, I’m goin’ to bust ’em, Luther.”
    â€œGet up there and Beaudry will pick you off from the ridge!” Luther warned. “Don’t you try it! I been thinkin’ things over, Bill. Maybe we made a mistake not to parley with them.”
    â€œWhat sense would there be in doin’ it? He wants our hides and nothin’ else!”
    â€œI’m goin’ to talk to him just the same. It’ll give this smoke a chance to rise.”
    â€œYou’re wastin’ your time,” Little Bill protested impatiently. “But you go ahead if yuh want to.”
    Beaudry answered Luther’s hail.
    â€œAre yuh ready to come out?” he demanded.
    â€œWhat sort of a proposition will you make us if we do?” Luther yelled back. “We got plenty ammunition left.”
    â€œSo have we,” Cash informed him, “and we got plenty of time! But I’ll make a deal with yuh, Luther, if you’ll come out.”
    â€œWhat sort of a deal?” Luther inquired sceptically.
    â€œIt ain’t you we want,” Beaudry returned. “I’m inclined to be reasonable. Just walk out of there—”
    At that moment the three men at the trough made a rush for the door. Beaudry’s willingness to talk had been just a ruse to divert the attention of the two men in the house.
    Little Bill cried a warning, but before Luther could leap back a bullet tore a ragged gash across his cheek.
    â€œPump that gun!” Bill screamed at him. He was firing madly himself.
    The three men fell back, one of them with a slug in his shoulder.
    â€œThat settles it!” Little Bill raged. “They’d shoot yuh down even when yuh was parleyin’ with ’em! It’s them or us now, and we’re shootin’ to kill! Just bang away at anythin’ that shows!”

Chapter X

    T HE gunfire from the ridge was almost continuous now. It said plainer than words that Beaudry was getting ready to rush the house.
    â€œWe better do somethin’ about this,” Bill told Luther. “I’m goin’ to drive those hombres back from the trough or come mighty close to it.”
    Although Luther protested, Little Bill made him hold Six-gun now as he stood up on the seat of his saddle.
    He was seen from the ridge as soon as he poked his rifle barrel over the top of the wall. The slugs began to ping and ricochet off the wall all about him, but in some miraculous way he escaped being hit.
    His own gun began to bark as he