CHAPTER XXXII
WINNING A FIGHT
After Sanderson shot the big man who had tried to rush him, there was asilence in the defile. Those of Dale's men who had positions ofsecurity held them, not exposing themselves to the deadly fire ofSanderson and the others.
For two hours Sanderson clung to his precarious position in thefissure, until his muscles ached with the strain and his eyes blurredbecause of the constant vigil. But he grimly held the place, knowingthat upon him depended in a large measure the safety of the men on theopposite side of the defile.
The third hour was beginning when Sanderson saw a puff of smoke burstfrom behind a rock held by one of his men; he heard the crash of apistol, and saw one of Dale's men flop into view from behind a rocknear him.
Sanderson's smile was a tribute to the vigilance of his men. Evidentlythe Dale man, fearing Sanderson's inaction might mean that he wasseeking a new position from where he could pick off more of hisenemies, had shifted his own position so no part of his body wasexposed to Sanderson.
He had wriggled around too far, and the shot from Sanderson's man hadbeen the result.
The man was not dead; Sanderson could see him writhing. He was badlywounded, too, and Sanderson did not shoot, though he could havefinished him.
But the incident drew Sanderson's attention to the possibilities of anew position. He had thought at first that he had climbed as high inthe fissure as he dared without exposing himself to the fire of theDale men; but examining the place again he saw that he might, withexceeding caution, take another position about twenty feet farther on.
He decided to try. Letting himself down until his feet struck a flatrock projection, he rested. Then, the weariness dispersed, he began toclimb, shoving his rifle between his body and the cartridge belt aroundhis waist.
It took him half an hour to reach the point he had decided upon, and bythat time the sun had gone far down into the hazy western distance, anda glow--saffron and rose and violet--like a gauze curtain slowlydescending--warned him that twilight was not far away.
Sanderson determined to finish the battle before the darkness couldcome to increase the hazard, and when he reached the spot in thefissure he hurriedly took note of the strategical points of theposition.
There was not much concealment for his body. He was compelled to lieflat on his stomach to be certain that no portion of his body wasexposed; and he found a place in a little depression at the edge of thefissure that seemed suitable. Then he raised his head above the littleridge that concealed him from his enemies.
He saw them all--every man of them. Some of them were crouching; somewere lying prone--apparently resting; still others were sitting, theirbacks against their protection--waiting.
Sanderson took his rifle by the barrel and with the stock forced achannel through some rotted rock on the top of the little ridge thatafforded him concealment. When he had dug the channel deeplyenough--so that he could aim the weapon without exposing his head--hestuck the rifle barrel into the channel and shouted to the Dale men:
"This game is played out, boys! I'm behind you. You can't hide anylonger. I give you fair warning that if you don't come out within aminute, throwin' your guns away an' holdin' up your hands, I'll pickyou off, one by one! That goes!"
There was sincerity in Sanderson's voice, but the men doubted.Sanderson saw them look around, but it was plain to him that they couldnot tell from which direction his voice came.
"Bluffin'!" scoffed a man who was in plain view of Sanderson; the veryman, indeed, upon whom Sanderson had his rifle trained.
"Bluffin', eh?" replied Sanderson grimly. "I've got a bead on you. Atthe end of one minute--if you don't toss your guns away and step out,holdin' up your hands, I'll bore you--plenty!"
Half a minute passed and the man did not move. He was crouching, andhis gaze swept the edge of the fissure from which Sanderson's voiceseemed to come. His face was white, his eyes wide with the fear ofdeath.
Just when it seemed that Sanderson must shoot to make his statement andthreat convincing, the man shouted:
"This game's too certain--for me, I'm through!"
He threw his weapons away, so that they went bounding and clattering tothe foot of the slope. Then he again faced the fissure, shouting:
"I know I've caved, an' you know I've caved. But what about them guyson the other side, there? They'll be blowin' me apart if I go toshowin' myself."
Sanderson called to Williams and the others, telling them the men weregoing to surrender, and warning them to look out for treachery.
"If one of them tries any monkey-shines, nail him!" he ordered."There's eleven of them that ain't been touched--an' some more thatain't as active as they might be. But they can bend a gun handyenough. Don't take any chances!"
Sanderson ordered the man to step out. He did so, gingerly, as thoughhe expected to be shot. When he was in plain view of Sanderson's men,Sanderson ordered him to descend the slope and stand beside a huge rockledge. He watched while the man descended; then he called to theothers:
"Step up an' take your medicine! One at a time! Guns first.Williams!" he called. "You get their guns as fast as they come down.I'll see that none of them plug you while you're doin' it!"
There was no hitch in the surrender; and no attempt to shoot Williams.One by one the men dropped their weapons down the slope.
When all the men had reached the bottom of the defile Sanderson climbeddown and asked the first man who had surrendered where they had lefttheir horses. The animals were brought, and the men forced to mountthem. Then, the Dale men riding ahead, Sanderson and the othersbehind, they began the return trip.
When they reached the open country above the defile, Sanderson rodeclose to Williams.
"There's enough of you to take care of this gang," he said, indicatingthe prisoners; "I'm goin' to hit the breeze to the Double A an' seewhat's happened there!"
"Sure!" agreed Williams. "Beat it!"
When Streak got the word he leaped forward at a pace that gave Williamsan idea of how he had gained his name. He flashed by the head of themoving columns and vanished into the growing darkness, running withlong, swift, sure leaps that took him over the ground like a featherbefore a hurricane.
But fast as he went, he did not travel too rapidly for Sanderson. Forin Sanderson's heart also lurked a premonition of evil. But he did notfear it; it grimmed his lips, it made his eyes blaze with a wanton,savage fire; it filled his heart with a bitter passion to slay the manwho had stayed behind at the Double A ranchhouse.
And he urged Streak to additional effort, heading him recklesslythrough sections of country where a stumble meant disaster, lifting himon the levels, and riding all the time with only one thought inmind--speed, speed, speed.