springing from the back of the gray at the court-house steps, was

Martha Lewallen.

"I'll kill the fust man that lifts his finger to hurt the gal," Rome

said, knocking the drunken man's gun in the air. "We hain't fightin'

women!"

It was too late to oppose her, and the crowd stood helplessly

watching. No one dared approach, so, shielding with her body the

space of the opening door, she threw the sack of food within. Then

she stood a moment talking and, turning, climbed to her saddle.

The gray was spotted with foam, and showed the red of his nostrils

with every breath as, with face flushed and eyes straight before

her, she rode slowly toward the crowd. What was she about?

Rome stood rigid, his forgotten pistols hanging at each side; the

mouth of the drunken mountaineer was open with stupid wonder;

the rest fell apart as she came around the corner of the cabin and,

through the space given, rode slowly, her skirt almost brushing

Rome, looking neither to the right nor to the left; and when she

had gone quite through them all, she wheeled and rode, still

slowly, through the open fields toward the woods which sheltered

the Lewallens, while the crowd stood in bewildered silence

looking after her. Yells of laughter came from the old court-house.

Some of the Stetsons laughed, too; some swore, a few grumbled;

but there was not one who was not stirred by the superb daring of

the girl, though she had used it only to show her contempt.

" Rome, you're a fool; though, fer a fac', we can't shoot a woman;

'n' anyways I ruther shoot her than the hoss. But lemme tell ye, thar

was more'n sump'n to eat in that bag! They air up to some dodge."

Rufe Stetson had watched the incident through a port-hole of the

cabin, and his tone was at once jesting and anxious.

"That grub won't last more'n one day, I reckon," said the drunken

mountaineer. We'll watch out fer the gal nex' time. We're boun' to

git 'em one time or t'other."

"She rid through us to find out how many of us wasn't dead drunk,"

said Steve Marcum, still watching the girl as she rode on, toward

the woods; "'n' I'm a-thinkin' they'll be down on us purty soon now,

'n' I reckon we'll have to run fer it. Look thar boys!"

The girl had stopped at the edge of the woods; facing the town, she

waved her bonnet high above her head.

"Well, whut in the--! "he said, with slow emphasis, and then he

leaped from the door with a yell. The bonnet was a signal to the

beleaguered Lewallens. The rear door of the courthouse had been

quietly opened, and the prisoners were out in a body and

scrambling over the fence before the pickets could give an alarm.

The sudden yells, the crack of Winchesters, startled even the

revellers and all who could, headed by Rome and Steve Marcum,

sprang into the square, and started in pursuit. But the Lewallens

had got far ahead, and were running in zigzag lines to dodge the

balls flying after them. Half-way to the woods was a gully of red

Download<<BackPagesMainNext>>
(C) 2013 Как раскрутить сайт навсегда