The
Black Minorca turned, and Pennington nodded to him to follow;
whereupon the latter cashed in his chips and joined his employer on
the sidewalk. Here a whispered conversation ensued, and at its
conclusion the Black Minorca nodded vigorously.
"Sure!" he assured the Colonel. "I'll fix 'em good and plenty."
Together Pennington and the Black Minorca entered the automobile and
proceeded swiftly to the Laguna Grande Lumber Company's mill-office.
From a locker the Colonel produced a repeating rifle and three boxes
of cartridges, which he handed to the cholo, who departed without
further ado into the night.
Twenty minutes later, from the top of a lumber-pile in Cardigan's
drying-yard, Bryce Cardigan saw the flash of a rifle and felt a
sudden sting on his left forearm. He leaped around in front of the
cowcatcher to gain the shelter of the engine, and another bullet
struck at his feet and ricocheted off into the night. It was followed
by a fusillade, the bullets kicking up the freshly disturbed earth
among the workers and sending them scurrying to various points of
safety. In an instant the crossing was deserted, and work had been
stopped, while from the top of the adjacent lumber-pile the Black
Minorca poured a stream of lead and filthy invective at every point
which he suspected of harbouring a Cardigan follower.
Pages:
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356