As I had been warm I had my sombrero
over the pommel of the saddle. And when the head of my horse blocked any
possible sight of movement of my hand, I pulled my gun and held it
concealed under my sombrero. This rustler had bothered me in my
calculations. And here he came galloping, alone. Exultation would have
been involuntary then but for the sudden shock, and then the cold
settling of temper, the breathless suspense. Snecker pulled his huge bay
and pounded to halt abreast of me. Luck favored me. Had I ever had
anything but luck in these dangerous deals?
Snecker seemed to fume; internally there was a volcano. His wide
sombrero and bushy beard hid all of his face except his eyes, which were
deepset furnaces. He, too, like his lieutenant, had been carried
completely off balance by the strange message apparently from Sampson.
It was Sampson's name that had fooled and decoyed these men. "Hey!
You're the feller who jest left word fer some one at the Hope So?" he
asked.
"Yes," I replied, while with my left hand I patted the neck of my horse,
holding him still.
"Sampson wants me bad, eh?"
"Reckon there's only one man who wants you more."
Steadily, I met his piercing gaze.
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