Silvertip by Max Brand--Delphi Classics (Illustrated) by Max Brand

Author:Max Brand [BRAND, MAX]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Parts Edition 8 of 76 by Delphi Classics
Publisher: Delphi Classics (Parts Edition)
Published: 2018-04-16T00:00:00+00:00

XV. THE DRUMMON PLACE

THEY CAME TO the verge of the bright water, with its currents running like half-luminous shadows beneath the surface.

“This is the limit,” said Tonio. “This is as far as we can go. Over there is the home of Henry Drummon — beyond that hill, with the trees covering it. If any of the men of Monterey are found across this river, we are shot like dogs. It is the dead line.”

“We could ford the stream right here, I think,” said Silver.

“Yes,” said Tonio, “and we could be shot on the other bank.”

Silver scanned the wooded head of that hill and knew perfectly that he would have to cross to the other side of it. He knew, rising in him, the peculiar force of the temptation, and he set his teeth against the surge of it in vain.

At last he said: “We’d better go over to have a bit of a look, Tonio, don’t you think so?”

Tonio stared at him.

“This,” he said, making an appropriate gesture, “is the dead line.” He indicated the river with the sweep of his hand, and continued by drawing the edge of the hand across his throat suddenly. “Besides,” he said, “this is the daylight. And they are all hawks and owls. They can see miles and miles even in the half light. What do you wish to do, señor?”

Silver drew up his belt a notch, as though he were hungry.

“I’ll go over and take a look at the house,” he said. “Go back in there among those trees, Tonio, and wait for me. If you hear guns, and don’t see me come pelting back over the head of that hill, you’ll know that they’ve got me, and you won’t have to wait any longer.”

Tonio shouted in rapid protest, but Silver was already riding into the water. He would not look back, in spite of the heated arguments that Tonio poured into his ears from a distance. But when he gained the farther bank, he turned and waved his hand. Tonio, with both arms moving, was indicating to heaven and earth that he abandoned the cause of a madman. Silver cantered his mustang up the easy slope and made straight at the hill.

As he came to it, he swung the horse to the side, and well away from a road that cleft through the trees. He had barely changed direction when he heard the beating of many hoofs, the creaking of leather, the notes of raised voices. And as the trees began to spread their branches above him, he saw a cavalcade of half a dozen riders sweep over the top of the hill, with a cluster of dogs racing about the horses, or frolicking in the lead.

It was a group of the Drummons. He could have known them at a greater distance by the way the big, blocky heads were set on the thick necks, and by the way the necks grew out of the shoulders. He could have judged, too, by something devil-may-care in the free swing of their riding.

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