The telegrams, Healy's delirious mutterings, the men and horses crossing the chalcedony plateau, the cigarette-end, his lengthy search for the Teapot Rock, his rising in the night and the explanation of coyotes, bolstered by Harvey's corroboration, all flashed through his mind as he savagely ground his teeth. And now they would get the girls.
Healy had craftily waited to spring the trap until the secret of the butte had been unlocked by Stone. How the girls had come upon the scene he could not yet fathom. It was sufficient that they were there. And the cause of it was the cursed gold that lay within. What a fool he had been! If only he had listened more to Larkin!
His rage seemed to steady his aim. A bullet sent a man toppling backward over his pony's tail while the brute galloped off, trailing its master, whose spurred boot had caught in the stirrup. Larkin shot another horse and the cavalcade halted, palpably disturbed at the excellence of the aim. There was some discussion and then a leader waved a hand and the troop wheeled and galloped off toward a neighbouring butte while Stone and Larkin sped them in their retreat with humming missiles.
The girls had come up close to the butte and were calling as Stone threw the strap of his rifle across his shoulder and made for the rope.
"They'll pot you as you go down," warned Larkin. "Hey, girls, look out down there for Healy and"
An exclamation from Stone checked him. Harvey
