Then I told how we left a dozen prisoners under guard
and went back to the Hope So to find Blome where he had fallen. Steele's
bullet had cut one of the petals of the rose Snecker had playfully put
in the rustler's buttonhole. Bright and fatal target for an eye like
Steele's! Bo Snecker lay clutching his gun, his face set rigidly in that
last fierce expression of his savage nature. There were five other dead
men on the floor, and, significant of the work of Steele's unknown
allies, Hilliard and Pickens were among them.
"Steele and I made for camp then," I concluded. "We didn't speak a word
on the way out. When we reached camp all Steele said was for me to go
off and leave him alone. He looked sick. I went off, only not very far.
I knew what was wrong with him, and it wasn't bullet-wounds. I was near
when he had his spell and fought it out.
"Strange how spilling blood affects some men! It never bothered me much.
I hope I'm human, too. I certainly felt an awful joy when I sent that
bullet into Blandy's bloated head in time. And I'll always feel that way
about it. But Steele's different."
Chapter 12
TORN TWO WAYS
Steele lay in a shady little glade, partly walled by the masses of
upreared rocks that we used as a lookout point.
Pages:
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270