The trail led him higher into the hills.  Up through the sunlit morning, Robinson went, climbing swiftly among the strands of spruce and white fir.  A half dozen gray and white nuthatches were chattering their way down a nearby trunk; bluebirds went fluttering up from the brush.

Robinson studied the ground ahead of him as he went loping uphill.  He could tell that Smokes, holding the girl on his horse with him, had passed this way.

The escaping man was not moving that rapidly, not making good time.  He had started with nearly a half-hour lead on Robinson, yet he had been through the stretch of forest only a few minutes earlier.

Robinson knew he'd overtake Smokes before too long.

A squirrel came climbing down a tree trunk,  noticed Robinson, and stopped still, clinging.

Smiling, Robinson increased his pace.

"Sooner or later," said Katherine, "you'll be caught up with."  She was sharing, uncomfortably, the saddle with Smokes.

"Fer chrissake, shut yer pie 'ole," he told her.  He glanced back over his shoulder, saw nothing out of the ordinary, and heard only the sounds of the morning forest.  "I dunno why it is ev'ry other woman I run up agin' give me nuttin' but a headache."

The blond girl said, "Let me go then, that will end your troubles."

"I needs ya, sister.  Case they come after me," he told her.  "See, mos' fellers feel a certain way 'bout their women folk, cain't stand t' see 'em get hurt none.  Even that dumb papa grizzly, Morisson, backed down rather than see me put a bullet 'tween yer eyes."

"My husband stood up to you."

"An' look whut it got 'im---all shot up," said Smokes, laughing his rare laugh.  "He's probably daid 'n gone b'now."

Katherine said nothing more for a while.

When they had traveled another few minutes they came parallel to a wide stream.  The spruce trees thinned, giving way to a great rocky slope that climbed up high just ahead.

"Good a place as any t' stop fer a lil'," said Smokes after one more check behind him.

"Why do you want to stop?" asked the girl.

"I know ya got half that gol' on ya somewheres," he said.  "I aim t' 'ave it.  Now if somebody, that hill or the papa grizzly mebbe, was to be so dum as t' come after me....well, ya might git hurt in th' pro-cess.  That's why I want them nuggets right now.  Then, should I hafta dump ya quick like, I won't hafta waste none o' m'time searchin' yer body."

"I see."

Smokes reined up and climbed out of the saddle.  "C'm'on down," he ordered, offering her no help.

Katherine kicked out with one foot as she dismounted, connecting with his chin.

Smokes yelped profanely as his sooty hair flapped and his high-crown hat jumped off his head.

The girl leaped back into the saddle and tried to wheel the horse around.

"Aw no," said Smokes.  He caught the reins.  "Whoa--o-o- boy."  When his mount halted Smokes drew out his nickel-plated gun.  "C'mon down off o' thar right now, an' do it real slow like."

Katherine complied.

HIs revolver trained on her, Smokes felt out behind him with his other hand, crouching, and retrieved his hat.

"Smudge," said the girl.

"Whut?"

"Your hat's got a smudge of dirt on the brim now."

"Keep yer pie hole shut!" commanded Smokes.

Rising behind them now was a sloping cliffside.

Smokes straightened up his spectacles.  "Ye'd a' been in real trouble if'n ye'd broken these," he said.  "I hadda send all th' way to Frisco for this pair."  He gave a short sigh, mostly through his nose.  "'Kay, lez have th' gol' an' then we'll be on our way."

"You've made a mistake, sir," said Katherine.  "My husband has our share of the...."

"I ain't got no time fer that!"  He took a step closer, jabbing with his gun at the narrowing space between them.  "I wuz 'wake all o' th' night, listenin' an' a'watchin'.  I knows good 'n well ya wrapped up yer half in one o' yer purty hankies.  Now hand it over!"

"I'm telling you...."

Smokes strode forward, boots grating on the pebbly ground.  "Dang it, lady, quite monkeyin' 'round."  He slapped her.

Then, suddenly, Smokes's arms went jerking straight out at his sides.

He hung there, crucified on air, for an instant before hopping a pace forward.  Then he folded up on himself and fell.

Robinson had caught up with him.  He had come hurtling down through the bright morning, having leaped from the rocks above.  His feet had slammed into the other man's back.

Now, before Smokes could struggle up off the rocky ground, Robinson took hold of his gun hand.  He applied pressure to the wrist.

Smokes yowled, his fingers stiffening out erect and letting go.

Robinson kicked the weapon away and stood by, waiting for the sooty-haired man to rise.

"Now ya done it, now ya done it," muttered Smokes.  "Dang yew, ya broke m' glasses."  He gave an angry toss of his head and the wire-rimmed spectacles fell away from his face, both lenses mosaics of cracked glass.  "'Kay, hill, you got me."  Hands clenched, eyes squinting now, Smoke got to his feet.

"You will come back...."

In each hand, Smokes held a fistful of rocks.  He flung these into Robinson's face.  "Like hell, I will!" He spun, eyes narrowed, searching for the lost gun.

He didn't notice he was walking straight into his horse's flank.

Frightened, the animal kicked out with its rear legs.

One heavy iron shoe smashed directly into Smokes's head.  He screamed once, briefly.  He kept going backward until he tripped over and fell, dead, into the stream.263Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAxkdl8VeHm