they were after him he made no sign but had evidently settled down to getting the most out of his steed, limping now but struggling on.
"He'll die an' dry up in the desert if 'e starts to cross it," gasped Larkin, bobbing in his saddle. "W'ot price dismounting and trying a pot shot or two? Though I'll never git back in this bloody saddle hif I do," he added, with a groan.
"Too quick a death for him," said Stone. "He wants the fear of the noose put into him. Our horses are in better shape than his. We'll get him inside of a mile or so."
They went on in the hot sun, all three at a slow gait that was a travesty of a trot. Once Larkin yelled and Healy looked round. They saw him put his spurs to the horse that lumbered forward and then stopped suddenly, warned by its instinct of something its rider could not see. Healy went over its head and the animal wheeled and snorted and then stood stock still for the others to come up.
But they were staring at a frightful sight, swiftly as it passed. As Healy struck the ground it seemed to rise all about him in a geyser of mud, as a greasy puddle splashes under the passing foot. They heard his shriek, despairing, unearthly, and saw him wallow helplessly before the pit engulfed him. As they reached the edge of the sumidero all that was left of Healy were a few slimy, gaseous bubbles that rose slowly, shone prismatically, and then burst gently with a sucking sound while the mud heaved a little
