Conagher (1969) by L'amour Louis

Author:L'amour, Louis [L'amour, Louis]
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-12-12T06:26:16.140000+00:00

Chapter 10

THE wounded man was muttering , and suddenly he asked for water.

Conn brought it to him in the long handle d drinking gourd and held it fo r him while he drank.

Hi Jackson looked up at him . I'm i n pretty bad shape, ain't I ?

I'd say so.

You're Conagher ?

Uh-huh.. . . The kid brought you i n Scott .

He's . . . he's a good boy. He ought t o go home .

Then Jackson lay quiet, breathin g heavily. He'd lost a lot of blood, an d Conagher didn't think he had much time.

I got to leave you pretty quick. Whe n it's dark your outfit will be down here afte r me .

You ain't goin' to make it, Conagher. y ou know that, don't you ?

I know nothing of the kind. But if I don't make it, they will be buryin' four o r five of your boys with me. They didn't pick on no pilgrim. I've been through thi s a time or two .

Shadows stretched out from the house , gathered in the lee of the bunk house.

Now . . . soon there would be no mor e time.

He filled a cup with the black coffee an d sipped it while making his rounds of th e windows. Then he stuffed his pockets wit h shells, glanced again at the wounded man , and edged over to the window.

Again he looked toward the ranc h house. Where were Tay and Leggett?

Suddenly he glimpsed a shadow, th e shadow of a running man. There was n o time for a shot, no time for anything.

He went out the window and made it t o the corral corner in a long, swift dive. A m an moved near the far corner, and as h e moved a rifle shattered the stillness an d the running man fell sprawling. Instantl y there were three more shots, all of the m from the house!

Another man was down, and Con n could hear somebody swearing.

Whoever was in the house had wisel y held their fire until the attackers expecte d no danger from that quarter. Two me n were down, and the one in plain sight wa s dead.

Crouched at the corner of the corral , Conn saw a flicker of movemen t something white. He looked again, an d saw that it was a paper tied to a tumbleweed, another message like th e one he had found before.

It was within reach, and he put out a hand and cautiously untied it. It was to o dark to read it, and he thrust it carefull y down into his pocket.

The dusk was deceiving. Straining hi s eyes, he tried to make out some furthe r movement, but there was none.

In another minute he heard a whisper.

Tile? Back out . . . we're pullin' away .

There was a shuffling movement o f someone crawling along the ground. Con n had his gun up and could have scored a sure

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