The Greatest Westerns of Charles Alden Seltzer - Charles Alden Seltzer

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With a quick motion–successful because of Hollis’s injured wrist–he turned the latter over on his back. His eyes alight with an exultant, malevolent fire, he gripped Hollis’s throat with one hand and drove at his face with the other. A quick movement of the head served to defeat Yuma’s aim and his fist thumped heavily against the floor, bringing a grimace of pain to his face. Disregarding his injured wrist, Hollis wrenched savagely and succeeded in rolling free of Yuma and reaching his feet. He had moved quickly, but the lithe, cat-like half-breed was before him, bounding toward the pistol on the floor. He was bending over it, his fingers gripping its butt, when Hollis, throwing himself forward bodily, crashed into him and hurled him heavily to the floor.

      This time Yuma lay face downward, his arms outstretched, and Hollis lay sprawled out on top of him. But Yuma had succeeded in holding to the pistol; it was grasped in his outstretched right hand, just out of Hollis’s reach.

      For an instant again both men lay silent, breathing rapidly. Then, yielding to the rage that still possessed him, Hollis bounded to his feet, striking Yuma a crashing blow in the face as he did so. While Yuma reeled he brought his booted foot down on the hand holding the pistol, grinding it under his heel.

      Yuma screamed with pain and rage and got to his feet, holding his injured hand with the other. The pistol lay on the floor where Yuma had dropped it when Hollis’s boot had come in contact with his hand. For an instant Yuma stood gripping his hand, his face hideous with passion. Then with a snarl of rage and hate he drew a knife from the folds of his shirt and sprang toward Hollis.

      Hollis tensed himself for the clash, rapidly measuring the distance, and when Yuma came close enough caught him squarely on the side of the jaw with a vicious right swing. But in some manner when Hollis stepped aside to avoid Yuma’s knife, his feet had become entangled with the legs of the table that Yuma had previously overturned. As he struck he slipped, the blow at Yuma’s jaw not having the force he intended it to have. He caught himself, slipped again and went down, turning completely over the table top and falling face downward to the floor. He saw Yuma throw himself forward and he tried to wriggle out of danger, but he failed. He felt the half-breed’s weight on his body, saw the knife flash in the dull light. He tried to roll over and grasp the knife in its descent, but could not, his left arm, now useless, being pinned to the floor by Yuma’s knee.

      A revolver roared spitefully–once–twice. Yuma’s knife hissed past Hollis’s ear and struck the floor, its point sunk deep, its handle swaying idly back and forth. Yuma himself–inert, limp, rolled from Hollis’s back and lay flat on his own, his eyes wide open and staring, two huge bullet holes in his forehead. And in the open doorway of the cabin stood Ten Spot.

      For an instant Hollis could not realize his escape. He looked at Yuma and then again at Ten Spot. Slowly and painfully he got to his feet, looking around at the wreck of the room. Staggering a little, he walked to where Ten Spot stood, gripping the latter’s hand silently, at a loss for words with which to thank him.

      But apparently Ten Spot did not notice the omission, for he grinned broadly.

      “I reckon there’s folks which would call that a right clever bit of shootin’,” he said, “seem’ a? there wasn’t time to pull off no fancy stuff!”

      Chapter XXIII. Ten Spot Uses His Eyes

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      The crash of Ten Spot’s pistols aroused Nellie Hazelton, and she sat up and stared stupidly about–at Hollis, who was just rising from the floor; at Ten Spot, who still stood in the doorway; and then at Yuma’s body, stretched out on the floor beside the overturned table. She shuddered and covered her face with her hands. The next instant Hollis was bending over her, helping her to her feet, leading her to the door and assuring her in a low, earnest voice that everything was all right, and that Yuma would never trouble her again, and that he wanted her to get on her pony and go to the Circle Bar. She allowed herself to be led out on the porch, but once there she looked at him with renewed spirit.

      “It was you who came first,” she said; “I didn’t see you, but I heard Yuma curse, felt something strike him, and then–I must have fainted. You see, I felt it must be you–I had been expecting you.”

      As she spoke she seized his hands and pressed them tightly, her eyes eloquent with thankfulness. “Oh, I am so glad!” she whispered. Then she saw Ten Spot standing in the doorway and she ran over and seized his hands also, shaking them hysterically. And Ten Spot stood, red of face, grinning bashfully at her–like a big, awkward, embarrassed schoolboy.

      “That’s the first time I’ve ever been thanked for shootin’ anybody!” he confided to Hollis, later. “An’ it cert’nly did feel some strange!”

      In spite of Hollis’s remonstrances the girl insisted on returning to the interior of the cabin, to “bundle up her things.” Feeling the futility of further objection, Hollis finally allowed her to enter. But while she was busy in one of the rooms he and Ten Spot carried Yuma’s body outside, around to the rear of the cabin.

      Then, when the girl had finally secured her “things” and they had been securely tied to her pony, and she had started down the trail toward the Circle Bar ranch, Hollis and Ten Spot returned to the rear of the cabin, took up Yuma’s body, carried it to a secluded spot at some little distance from the cabin and there buried it deep and quickly.

      “I want to thank you again,” said Hollis as he and Ten Spot stood on the porch when Hollis was ready to depart; “it was a great stroke of luck that brought you here just when you were needed.”

      Ten Spot grinned. “I don’t think it was just luck that brought me,” he said; “though mebbe it was luck that took me into the Fashion this morning. Whatever it was, I was in there, an’ I heard Dunlavey an’ Yuma cookin’ this here deal. I wasn’t feelin’ entirely ongrateful for the way you’d treated me after you’d got my gun that day in the Kicker office an’ I wasn’t intendin’ to let happen what Dunlavey wanted to happen. So I got out of the Fashion as soon as I could an’ trailed Yuma. I’ve been after him all day, but somehow or other I lost him an’ didn’t find out where he’d gone till a little while ago–when I heard a gun go off. Then I hit the breeze here–after Yuma. That’s all. That’s how I come to get here so lucky.” He stuck out a hand to Hollis. “Well, so-long,” he said; “I’m hittin’ the breeze out of the country.” He stepped forward to his pony, but hesitated when he heard Hollis speak.

      “Then you’re not going back to the Circle Cross–to work for Dunlavey?” questioned the latter.

      “Well, no,” grinned Ten Spot. “You see, it might not be so pleasant now as it’s been. I reckon when Dunlavey hears this he won’t be exactly tickled.”

      Hollis contemplated him gravely. “So you’re going to leave the country?” he said slowly, his eyes twinkling. “I take it you are not afraid—”

      “Don’t!” said Ten Spot coldly and sharply. Then he grinned with feline cordiality. “I reckon I ain’t scared of anyone,” he said, “but I ain’t likin’ to go back to the Circle Cross after puttin’ Yuma out of business. I’ve done some mean things in my time, but I ain’t dealin’ double with no man, an’ I couldn’t go back to the Circle Cross an’ work for Dunlavey when I ain’t sympathizin’ with him none.”

      “I’m shy of good cowhands,” offered Hollis quietly. “If forty a month would be—”

      Ten Spot’s right hand was suddenly gripping Hollis’s. “You’ve hired a man, boss!” he said, his eyes alight with pleasure. “Ever since you clawed me that day in the Kicker office I’ve had a hankerin’ to work for you. I was wonder in’ if you’d ast me. There ain’t no damn—”

      “Then it’s a bargain,” laughed Hollis, interrupting. “You can start right now.” He pointed to the ridge upon which he had been riding when he heard the shot that had brought him to the cabin. “Some of Ed Hazelton’s

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