Bennington struggled furiously and silently.
The other had great difficulty in holding him down.
"Come here, some of you fellows," he cried, panting and laughing a
little. "Tie his hands, for the love of Heaven."
In another moment the Easterner, his arms securely pinioned, stood as
before. He was breathing hard and the short struggle had heated his
blood through and through. Bunker Hill had waked up. He set his teeth,
resolving that they should not get another word out of him.
The timekeeper raised one hand warningly. Over his shoulder Bennington
dimly saw a tall muscular figure, tense with the expectation of effort,
lean forward to the slack of the lariat. He stared back to the front.
The leader raised his pistol to give the signal. Bennington shut his
eyes. Then ensued a pause and a murmuring of low voices. Bennington
looked, and, to his surprise, perceived Lawton's girl in earnest
expostulation with the leader of the band. As he listened their voices
rose, so he caught snatches of their talk.
"Confound it all!" objected the man in exasperated tones, "you don't
play fair. That wasn't the agreement at all.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102