And yet there was but one man on that side, there were several here, and he was no man to leave Turk and Rice to the heavier odds.
"If I could only get my hands on Joe Embry," were the words beating in his brain. "Joe Embry with the goods on."
"Help me get Turk back toward the head of the flume," he said to Rice, always with Joe Embry in mind. "We can cover the Goblet from there. And, if we have to, then we can knock out a board or two and let enough water into the Goblet to put a stop to their funny business."
The sensible thing to do, agreed Rice. And Turk, though he fairly whimpered with rage because he had had no satisfactory target given him as yet, agreed to be moved. Half dragging, half carrying the wounded man and yet very gentle with him, they slowly covered the hundred paces to the point where Steele decided they were to make their stand.
"Just keep still and you'll keep them guessing," he said quietly. "I don't think their stray bullets can find you here and I don't believe they'll tackle the Goblet until they get the signal from the other side. Which," grimly, "they are not going to get at all."
He put his rifle into the hands of the wondering Bill Rice and was gone in the darkness, slipping down into the emptied bed of the stream.
"He thinks it's Embry over there," Rice muttered in Turk's ear. "Most likely he's goin' to get him. How's the leg, pardner?"
