Blade 5 by Matt Chisholm

Author:Matt Chisholm
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: colt 45, piccadilly publishing, best western ebook, joe blade western series, westerns general, matt chisholm westerns, wild west outlaws
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter Ten

Blade stopped and listened.

He could hear Lister and the others, so he thought, far off. But down here there was no knowing distance or time. He sat down and he thought about his situation. In a hole in the mountain, no water and little food. How long could he last?

What of Doke and the two girls?

They would be a pushover for Lister and his crowd. The thought that had nagged at Blade for days nagged at him now, worrying him like his sore hand. How much in the right were Salome and Roxanne? If Blade was doing something crooked, he liked to know precisely what it was.

He heard a faint sound. He cocked his head, turning to listen at different angles. No more than a light sssh of sound. Only after listening intently for some time did he realize that he was in some kind of wide tunnel and that it acted as a whispering gallery. He was listening to men whispering or speaking in low voices together. How far off they were he had no way of knowing.

He turned and went on, going as softly as he could, guessing that, if he could hear them, they could hear him. He fought off a feeling of claustrophobia, pulling great breaths of air into his lungs. It was now that he was taking in comparatively sweet air. Somewhere not far off there must be a source of fresh air. But where?

He went on, slowly, limping badly. So going, he stumbled on something on the ground and went down. He could not avoid making considerable noise. At once the whispered tones became loud booming ones. The sound of them seemed to come out of the very rock on either side of him. It was like being in a waking nightmare. Unthinkingly, he put out his injured hand to raise himself up and nearly fainted from the pain. He cursed the weakness of human flesh. For a moment, he lay down flat on his back and closed his eyes, telling himself he must get up and push on.

He thought he heard the voices coming perceptibly closer. Opening his eyes, he was startled to see a bright patch above him. He reached up with his good hand, thinking that he could touch it. But he could not. It could have been three feet or a hundred feet above him.

He forced himself to his feet and searched in his pocket for matches. He would have to gamble that he was separated by a curve in the cave from the men behind him. He found a lucifer with his good hand and struck it on rock. The small flame blinded him and hurt his eyes. He squinted them against it and raised it high above his head. It went out before he could see anything. He had been holding the tiny splinter of wood in the wrong position.

When he struck the next match, he held it high and behind his head. Now he saw that he was in a kind of underground chamber.

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