The ex-stage driver soon disappeared, and Hal when he looked down into the canyon once more, saw the Thugs and Deadly Dan staring at the wound ghastly and terrible in the Tiger’s breast.
“Men don’t often recover from such a wound,” murmured the boy. “But he’s got the constitution of an ox, and that’s in his favor.”
“The man what says that Tom Terror ar’ goin’ to pass in his checks lies like sin. His time will not come till he’s paid the rascal Jack fur this gapin’ hole in his life chest. Don’t look long-faced an’ down-hearted, pard. I’m goin’ to help you to the big bonanza. Did you ever see such an ugly hole? Why, it’s big enough fur death to drive a four-in-hand into a chap’s heart. They’ll hunt for me,” he said. “Ah! I know the place fur me to rest in. I found it last summer. Lodgepole, you have not forgotten--the cave in the old ravine. Take me thar.”
A few moments later the band moved slowly from the spot where the Tiger received his wound. The progress made was painfully slow, for the fact that Tom Terror lay heavily upon the scarlet arms that supported him on either side, with his dark eyes hid and teeth glued together, told that he was suffering the agonies of twenty deaths.
But guided by the young Thug, the speechless cavalcade finally left the bed of Cut-throat, and ascended to the ground above.
At that time not a soul of that band dreamed that not twenty rods ahead a fair young girl, suddenly roused from sleep, was listening white-faced and with throbless heart to the noise of their coming.
“In the name of mercy what wolves have tracked us down?” fell from her lips. “It is merciless fate that sent Harry off and left me to face them alone. But, ah! he is safe. Heaven, I thank thee for that. Ay, I am glad that I am alone.”
Myra, the waif, shrunk instinctively to the northern wall where the marks of the boy lyncher’s vengeance were.
As the girl stood there, and listened to the sounds made by the new arrivals, she did not allow her hands to tremble at the weapon which they encircled.
“Ar’n’t we thar yet? This bullet in my trunk hes got to movin’ about.”
That voice had a familiar sound. Six hours had not passed since she heard it behind the stock of a leveled carbine.