The Luck of the Mounted Part 24

And, as if to enforce his command, Slavin set his huge shoulder against the door and gave a heave which caused the stout wood to crack ominously.

"Look out, Burke!" cried Yorke suddenly. His right arm shot out and jerked the maddened Irishman violently towards him. His hasty action was only just in time.

Bang! bang! Two m.u.f.fled shots detonated within, and white splinters flew from a spot in the door covered a moment before by the sergeant's broad breast. With a startled oath Slavin flung up his gun, as if to fire back; but Yorke clutched his arm and arrested the action.

"No, no, Burke!" he hissed warningly, "no use doing that! You bet he's not there now. Lying 'doggo' behind the logs, most likely. You'd only blow a hole in the door that he could pick us off through after. We're proper marks in the moonlight here! Let's back up, and keep the front covered."

Slavin, balked of his prey, rumbled in his throat awhile, like some huge bear; then, adopting Yorke's suggestion, he slowly backed up with the latter to the sheltering brush, where they rejoined the expectant, anxious doctor.

"Hit, either of you?" he enquired tersely.

Yorke replied in the negative. "Mighty close shave for Burke here, though" he added, "lucky I heard Gully c.o.c.king that blasted Luger of his." He uttered a suppressed chuckle, "Burke's always one to go cautioning others, and then lose his temper and expose himself."

For some few minutes they canva.s.sed the situation in tense whispers, lying p.r.o.ne in the brush with their carbines covering their objective.

"Sh-sh!" hissed the doctor suddenly. "Hark!"

With all their faculties on the stretch, they held their breaths and listened intently. In the stillness they heard the unmistakable noise as of a window being cautiously lifted. The sound came from the southern end of the building.

Then they heard Redmond's voice ring out sharply from the bank: "No use, Gully! I've got you covered! You can't make it from there! You'd better give in, man."

There was an instant's silence, then--crack! came the crisp report of the Luger. It was answered by the deep, reverberating bang! of a carbine, and the crash of splintered gla.s.s and woodwork was followed by a boyish laugh.

"Told you Reddy was there with the goods!" remarked Yorke, triumphantly, to his superior, "don't suppose he got him though--Gully's too fly--he'd duck into shelter the instant he'd fired. I'll bet he's doing some tall thinking just now. Beggar's between the devil and the deep sea--properly. He'll chuck up the sponge just now, you'll see."

"Eyah!" agreed Slavin, with an oath, "he's up against it. But Reddy down there--I du not like th' idea av th' bhoy bein' all alone. Yorkey, yu'

shlink thru' th' brush an' down th' bank an' kape um company awhile. Th'

Docthor an' me'll kape th' front here covered."

A few minutes later, Yorke, after first challenging Redmond cautiously, crept up beside his comrade below the sheltering river-bank.

"Did you get him?" he queried in a tense whisper.

"No, I don't think so," muttered Redmond disconsolately, "but--he d----d near got me--look!"

He exhibited his Stetson hat. A clean bullet perforation showed in the pinched-up top. "I could have got him--easy," he added, "when he first opened the window. Wish I had, now--but you know what Burke said--about getting him alive--I only loosed off after he'd thrown down on me. I was scared for you and Burke, though! I could see you both backing up--after he'd shot through the door."

Bang! A dull, m.u.f.fled report detonated within the building. The ominous echoes gradually died away, and the stillness of the night settled over all once more.

The crouching policemen stared at each other strangely. "Hear that?"

e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Redmond, with a startled oath, "By G----d! he's shot himself!

must have--it sounded m.u.f.fled. . . . All over! I'll bet his brains--"

He broke off short and, shoving the barrel of his carbine over the edge of the bank, he commenced to clamber up. "Wait a second! . . . Good G.o.d, Red! don't do that!" snarled Yorke warningly. "He's as cunning as a blasted _lobo_. May be it's only a tr--"

The entreaty died in his throat. Crack! A spurt of flame shot from the opened window, and Redmond, with a gasping exclamation of rage and pain, toppled backwards onto the shingle, his carbine clattering down beside him. Fearful of relaxing his vigilance even at this crisis, the maddened Yorke flung up his weapon and sent shot after shot crashing through the open cas.e.m.e.nt. All could hear the smashing, rending sounds of havoc his bullets were creating within.

"Doctor!" he shouted. "Oh, Doctor! Come on round quick!" In a hoa.r.s.e aside he spat out feverishly, "Red! Red! my old son! . . . hit bad?

Where'd you get it?"

"Shoulder! Oh-h!" gasped poor Redmond, moaning and rolling on the shingle in his agony, "Oh, Christ, it hurts!"

There came a crashing in the undergrowth on their right, and presently a crouching form came creeping rapidly towards them under cover of the sheltering bank. In a terse aside Yorke acquainted the doctor with the details of his comrade's mischance, keeping a wary eye meanwhile on the window. The ex-naval surgeon wasted no time in unnecessary question or comment, but with the grim composure of an old campaigner swiftly proceeded to render first aid to the wounded man.

"Right shoulder--low down!" he presently vouch-safed to the anxious Yorke. "Trust it's missed the lung! . . . can't tell yet! . . . I must get him away the best way I can. No! . . . don't move, Yorke! You keep on your mark! I can pack him I think. I'll get him to the buckboard somehow. This is going to be a long siege, I'm thinking. You'll be getting reinforcements later. Slavin told me to send for them."

Bang! crash! The crisp sounds of splintering woodwork on the east side of the shack denoted the fact of their quarry apparently attempting a second escape from the front entrance. Unaided, the doctor cleverly executed the professional fire-fighter's trick of raising, balancing on the back, and carrying an unconscious human body. With an overwhelming feeling of relief, not unmixed with admiration, at the other's gameness, Yorke watched him stagger away in the gloom, bearing poor George upon his bowed shoulders.

His momentary lack of vigilance proved well-nigh his own undoing, also.

Crack! spat the Luger again from the window. His hat whirled from his head, but he kept his presence of mind. It was not the first time by many that Yorke had been under fire. Ducking down on the instant, he moved swiftly three paces to his right, and then, finger on trigger, he suddenly jerked upright and sent two more shots crashing through the aperture.

"Mark-er!" he called out mockingly. "Signal a miss, mark-er! Ding-dong!

You'll get tired of it before we do, Gully! You'd better give up the ghost, man!"

His grim sarcasm failing to draw further fire from his desperate opponent, the senior constable reloaded wearily and settled down to what promised to be a long, danger-fraught vigil.

CHAPTER XIV

He "went out," poor Gus, at the break o' day--- Oh!--his kindly ways, and his cheery face!

But . . . the Lord gave, and hath taken away, Hark! sounds "The Last Post," Requiescat in Pace!

"THE LAST POST"

Slowly the night dragged through for the two grim, haggard sentinels.

Thrice during their vigil had their desperate quarry exercised his marksmanship upon them with his deadly Luger. Seemingly only by a miracle did they escape each time. The sergeant had his hat perforated in similar fashion to his companions. Yorke had a shoulder-strap torn from his stable-jacket. Adroitly shifting their positions each time he fired, they greeted his shots with such withering blasts of carbine fire that they finally silenced their enemy's battery. Throughout he had remained as mute as a trapped wolf. Only an occasional cough indicated that so far, apparently, he was unharmed and, like them, still grimly on the alert.

Relief came to the two besiegers with the first streaks of dawn. Dr.

c.o.x, with almost superhuman efforts, had somehow managed to reach Lanky Jones and the buckboard with the wounded Redmond. Swiftly conveying the latter back to the detachment, the physician had immediately got in touch with the night-operator at the station, and also MacDavid.

And now, guided by that old pioneer, Inspector Kilbride arrived upon the scene with an armed party from the Post. They had been rushed up by a special train, which had been flagged by MacDavid at the nearest objective point to Gully's ranch.

Swiftly and warily they skirmished towards their objective. Half of the party, under a sergeant, crept along below the sheltering river bank where they soon joined the wearied, but still vigilant, Yorke. The rest, under the inspector, making a wide detour of the ranch, gained the brush on its eastern side. Among this last party were Hardy, McSporran and McCullough. In extended order they glided through the thick scrub and, reaching its fringe, flung themselves p.r.o.ne with their carbines held in readiness.

The inspector gradually wormed himself up beside Slavin who, in a few tense whispers, acquainted his superior with all details of the situation. Full well, both men realized what a perilous spot it was, for all concerned, on the eastern front of the shack. Straining their eyes in the gray, ghostly gloom they could just discern an open cas.e.m.e.nt.

Apparently it was from this well-sheltered embrasure that Gully had previously attempted to pick off Slavin. With the coming of daylight their position would be absolutely untenable in the face of further fire from the enemy. On the other hand, if they retreated further into the scrub they would lose sight of their objective altogether.

So much Kilbride intimated to the sergeant as they held whispered consultation. Also, he imparted rea.s.suring news anent Redmond. The latter's injury, though serious, was not a mortal hurt, according to a report from MacDavid, who had left the doctor watching his patient closely at the detachment.

Suddenly, a few paces to the right of where they lay, came the sound of one of the party stealthily clearing his throat. Poor fellow! his momentary lack of caution proved to be his death warrant.

Crack! A spurt of flame leapt from the velvety-black square of cas.e.m.e.nt.

The horrid, unforgetable cry of a man wounded unto death echoed the shot, and the startled besiegers could hear their comrade threshing around amongst the dead leaves in his agony.

"Steady, men! steady now! don't expose yourselves!" yelled the inspector.

"Fire at that window, while I get to this man!--keep me covered!"