Silver in the Blood by George G. Gilman

Author:George G. Gilman [Gilman, George G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619634312
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Bloomsbury USA
Published: 2015-07-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

"HOPE you didn't hurt that high-priced body of yours when, you fell out, Miss Martha?" Edge said softly, touching his hat brim as he halted the wagon. The cigarette bobbed from the corner of his mouth like some loose-fitting extension of his face.

The woman gave a low, anguished cry as Anatali swung his wagon to pass the first one.

"Just, bruised as we said," Tabor answered for her, his flat eyes boring into Edge's face.

"It's a hard world," Edge said, striking the match and touching it to the end of his cigarette. "You find that out when your butt hits it a hefty crack."

The second wagon stopped alongside the first. Edge blew out the match. His other hand rested on the butt of the holstered Colt. Tabor released his grip on the woman and took the pistol from her head.

"Go with the nigger," he instructed.

His gun was a Navy Model Remington. The hole in its muzzle was like a third, flat eye, much more threatening than the other two glaring out from under, the slope of his brow. The woman slid from the horse, seemed on the point of collapsing when her feet touched the ground, but fought against it. Anatali leaned down and hoisted her bodily on to the seat beside him. Edge blew out smoke and gave a slight nod. The Zulu muttered gentle commands to his team and the wagon moved forward.

"Hey, Jake!" Keene called from below.

Edge knew from his tone what the ugly little fat man was going to say. Tabor was too close and too tense to notice the difference in height of the wagons. From a greater distance it was obvious that one rode lower on its springs under the weight of a million dollars worth of silver bullion—the wrong one. As Tabor's attention was distracted by the shout, Edge snatched the cigarette from his mouth and pushed its glowing tip into the knot of the kerosene-soaked sheet behind him. Then, in a streak of fluid motion, he lashed with the reins at the backs of the team, kicked off the brake and lunged off the seat, Winchester grasped in one hand. With his other hand he grabbed a handful of Jake Tabor's flowing beard and jerked viciously at it. The big man roared with mixed pain and surprise and was wrenched sideways from his mount as Edge released him and fell hard into the saddle of his own horse, trotting behind the bullion wagon.

"Forget the fireworks!" Edge yelled. "Move it! Like quicksilver!"

As the gang held their fire, afraid of hitting Tabor, Anatali let out a blood-curdling Zulu war cry that did more to frighten the horses into speed than the lash of the whip across their backs. Then, as the speeding wagon rushed headlong down the slope towards them, the outlaws wheeled their horses to run out of its path, too panicked to get off any shots. Edge snatched a glance behind him and groaned his displeasure as he saw the second wagon, its canvas aglow with suffused light from the flaming fuse, only a few yards away.

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