lla.theburninghills-第22部分

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　He　was　dead　tired　but　he　hesitated。　Yet　she　was　obviously　wide　awake　and　apparently　in　no　mood　for　sleep。　He　walked　to　his　bed　roll　and　stretched　out　and　almost　at　once　his　muscles　let　go　and　he　sagged　into　sleep。　The　last　thing　he　remembered　was　a　little　gust　of　wind　stirring　the　leaves。
　A　hand　on　his　shoulder　awakened　him　to　pitch　darkness。　He　sat　up；　realizing　there　were　no　stars。　The　night　was　wild　with　wind　and　heavily　overcast。　The　brush　whipped　hard　and　the　horses　stood　with　their　backs　to　the　wind；　obviously　uneasy。
　〃I　see　nothing。　I　rest　now。〃
　〃All　right。〃　He　pulled　on　his　boots；　got　up　and　stamped　his　feet　into　them。　〃Feels　like　a　storm。〃'
　〃Si　。。。　I　think　so。〃
　Blown　sand　stung　his　cheek　and　he　pulled　his　hat　low　to　keep　it　on　his　head。　Reaching　for　his　gun　belts；　he　slung　them　about　his　hips。
　She　moved　past　him　in　the　darkness　and　he　put　his　arm　out　and　pulled　her　to　him。　Swiftly　she　struck　down　his　hand　and　started　to　move　away　but　seized　by　a　sudden　hot　gust　of　desire；　he　caught　her　and　drew　her　into　his　arms。
　She　fought　desperately；　wickedly。　Her　body　was　suddenly　a　bunch　of　steel　wire。　She　drew　back；　struggling　to　free　herself。　He　caught　her　face　and　twisted　her　lips　roughly　toward　him。
　Distant　lightning　flashed　and　he　saw　her　eyes　were　wide；　her　lips　parted。　He　bent　his　head　toward　her　and　suddenly　she　caught　the　hair　on　the　back　of　his　head　with　both　hands　and　crushed　her　mouth　against　his　with　fierce　intensity。　Her　splendid　body　shaped　itself　against　his　and　her　lips　parted　。。。　then　suddenly　she　tore　at　his　hands　and　jerked　free；　slapping　him　wickedly　across　the　face。　She　sprang　back　then；　like　a　cornered　cat；　standing　against　the　brush；　half…crouched。
　〃Don'　touch　me！　Don'　e　near　me！　I　kill　you！〃
　For　an　instant　he　felt　like　taking　her　back　into　his　arms　and　keeping　her　there　whether　she　liked　it　or　not　but　he　let　his　hands　fall。　What　she　had　said　was　no　wild　statement。　If　he　tried　to　force　himself　on　her　she　would　kill　him　if　she　could。
　〃Have　it　your　way。〃　He　picked　up　his　rifle　and　started　through　the　brush；　then　stopped　and；　grinning　in　spite　of　himself；　he　said；　〃But　I'll　always　remember　you　liked　it　。。。　for　a　minute；　anyway。〃
　〃You　are　animal。。。　I　think　I　hate　you。〃
　〃You're　animal　too；〃　he　said；　chuckling；　〃and　I　like　it　that　way。〃
　〃You　think　I　am　cheap　woman。〃
　〃I　don't　think　anything　of　the　land。　I　think　you're　a　mighty　fine　woman　but　you're　balky　as　a　mustang。〃
　〃You　are　a　fool〃
　The　night　was　black　and　wild。　Distant　lightning　weirdly　lit　the　desert；　turning　into　a　pale　moonscape　this　ash　heap　from　the　world's　creation。　Thunder　rumbled　and　muttered　in　the　far…off　canyons；　giant　boulders　seeming　to　tumble　down　vast　corridors　of　stone。　The　wind　skittered　leaves　along　die　ground　and　whipped　the　brush　with　savage　gusts。
　Near　the　edge　of　the　brush　he　sat　down。　There　not　even　the　lightning　would　reveal　his　presence。
　The　wind　was　rising　。。。　branches　flew　along　the　sand　and　tiny　particles　stung　his　face。　The　wind　cuffed　and　slapped　him；　thrusting　hard　against　his　shoulder。　If　it　became　worse　there　would　be　no　reason　to　remain　longer　for　the　horses　were　not　resting　and　it　was　doubtful　if　Maria　Cristina　would　sleep。
　It　was　raining　in　the　mountains　and　soon　the　washes　would　be　running　bank…full；　wild　torrents　of　water　rushing　down　from　the　barren　slopes　of　the　mountains　to　turn　their　dry　beds　into　raging　rivers　for　a　few　short　hours。　The　canyons　would　be　running　twenty　feet　deep　in　roaring　water　soon　。。。　A　spatter　of　rain　fell。。。　then　another。　He　went　to　his　saddle　for　his　slicker　and　from　Maria　Cristina's　saddle　he　got　her　poncho　and　spread　it　over　her。
　At　the　moment　he　spread　it　over　her　the　lightning　flashed。
　She　was　apparently　sleeping　soundly；　her　face　in　repose；　lovely　as　a　madonna。　All　the　fierce　anger；　the　sudden　aloofness；　all　that　was　gone。
　He　reached　down　and　touched　her　hair。　So　black　。。。　so　very　black。　Like　midnight　caught　in　a　web。　For　a　moment　he　held　a　strand　in　his　fingers；　then　replaced　it　gently　and　got　to　his　feet　He　took　up　his　rifle　and　started　back　to　his　place　at　the　edge　of　the　brush　and　he　did　not　see　her　hand　e　up　and　touch　the　strand　of　hair　he　had　caressed。　Nor　did　he　see　her　eyes；　wide　open　in　the　darkness。
　There　were　scattered　dashes　of　rain　and　gusts　of　wind。　He　watched　the　lightning…lit　desert　for　an　hour　and　then　another。　And　then　it　was　suddenly　colder　and　in　a　lightning　flash　he　saw　a　solid　wall　of　rain　advancing　across　the　desert。　Swiftly　he　came　to　his　feet　and　turned　toward　the　camp。
　Maria　Cristina　was　up；　rolling　her　bed。　She　glanced　around　at　him；　her　words　torn　by　the　wind。　〃We　go；　yes？〃
　〃Better　。。。　horses　might　stampede。　Anyway；　we　can't　rest　and　they　won't。〃
　He　saddled　up　in　a　driving；　pelting　rain。　Both　got　onto　their　horses　and　started　north。　Rain　hammered　their　backs　in　savage　gusts　and　the　horses　moved　out　fast；　glad　to　be　moving　ahead　of　the　storm　and　away　from　the　whipping　brush。
　All　night　they　drifted　before　the　storm。　Twice　they　crossed　deep　washes　only　minutes　before　rolling　walls　of　water　swept　down　and　once　lightning　struck　so　near　they　smelled　the　sharp　odor　of　sulphur　in　the　air　and　their　scalps　prickled　with　electricity。
　Suddenly；　ahead　of　them；　they　heard　a　vast　roar。　Then　they　saw　a　canyon　running　with　a　tremendous　rush　of　water。　There　was　no　question　of　getting　through。　No　question　at　all。　That　water　might　be　ten　feet　deep　or　forty　feet　and　no　horse　living　could　swim　in　that　mighty　torrent
　Lightning　flashed　and　Trace　Jordan　caught　Maria　Cristina's　shoulder；　gesturing　toward　some　rocks。　They　rode　toward　it　and　found　an　overhang　with　its　back　to　the　storm。
　Once　under　the　rock　they　were　out　of　the　rain　and　away　from　the　wind。　He　swung　down　and　lifted　her　from　the　horse。　Then　he　led　the　two　horses　deeper　into　the　cavernlike　overhang　and　tied　them　to　a　limb　of　cedar　that　stretched　into　the　gloom。
　Rain　swept　by　the　opening　and　the　wind　was　cold。　He　glanced　at　Maria　Cristina　and　she　was　shivering。　Her　legs　from　the　knees　down　were　wet。
　Heedless　of　risk；　he　gathered　dry　sticks　and　built　a　fire。　The　horses　were　restless　and　frightened　by　the　storm　but　a　fire　would　calm　them。　Most　horses　accustomed　to　campfires　enjoy　their　presence　and　all　night　long　will　feed　closer　and　then　away　from　the　fire；　liking　its　friendliness　and　assurance　of　panionship。
　There　was　a　pack　rat's　nest　that　offered　a　liberal　supply　of　dry　wood　and　by　now　it　was　close　to　dawn。　There　would　be　no　light　this　morning　until　late　for　the　sky　was　heavily　overcast　still　and　there　was　no　evidence　of　a　break。
　How　far　they　had　e　he　had　no　idea　but　the　storm　would　have　wiped　out　their　trail　pletely。　There　was　a　very　good　chance　they　were　free　at　last。　Not　even　Lantz　could　find　tracks　where　there　were　none。
　With　daylight　he　should　recognize　this　country。　Now　they　were　again　in　an　area　with　which　he　was　familiar。　North　of　them；　not　too　far　away　now；　was　the　San　Bernardino　Ranch　and　he　had　visited　the　place；　had　covered　all　that　country　north　to　Tucson　and　even　to　Prescott　and　Congress。
　Shivering；　they　huddled　near　the　fire。　The　big　red　horse　stamped　and　there　was　a　momentary　lull　in　the　storm。
　〃Tomorrow　we　will　be　safe。　I　know　the　man　on　this　ranch。　He　is　a　hard　man　but　a　good　man。〃
　〃I　hope。〃
　〃He　is　。。。　his　name　is　Slaughter。〃
　〃He　has　kill　men。〃
　〃Yes　。。。　when　they　needed　it〃　He　added　fuel　to　the　fire。　〃So　have　I。〃
　〃Before　this？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃How　many？〃
　〃Four　。。。　five；　maybe。〃
　They　waited　out　a　blast　of　wind。　Some　rain　whipped　into　the　overhang　and　the　fire　hissed　and　spluttered。
　〃You　never　tell　me：　Why　you　kill　Bob　Sutton？〃
　Taking　his　time；　he　explained　about　Johnny　Hendrix　and　the　horses。　He　told　her　of　working　through　stampede　and　storm；　through　the　dust　of　long　cat…tie　drives　and　the　smell　of　burning　hair　around　branding　fires。　And　then　of　their　months　of　effort　to　catch；　brand　and　tame　the　horses；　of　this　struggle　to　bee　something　more　than　mere　cowhands；　to　begin　a　business　of　their　own。　Then　he　told　of　his　return　from　Durango　and　of　finding　the　body　of　his　friend。
　〃Jack　Sutton；〃　she　said；　〃that　was　like　him。　And　Mort　Bayless；　I　think。　He　is　another。〃
　Trace　Jordan　w