THE HUNTERS AND THE HUNTED276Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7vS5Vv07fm
276Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaI9gLAD5u1
The men Eucher picked to help him find Robinson were experienced trackers.  They'd better be, Eucher thought grimly; there was enough wild country around to look through.

Still, he thought he had a pretty good idea of where to look for Robinson.  Since the priest hadn't headed for town, only the rocks ahead would provide even minimal sustenance.  Maybe he'd found a cave or something up there.

Swinging up on his horse, he could feel the eyes of the coolies on him.  The guards, too, for that matter.  Not many of them slantymen wishing him well, Eucher guessed.  Funny how they'd stuck together.  You'd think they'd know their wages depended on the railroad keeping moving.  He noticed Thatcher's old boy---what was his name?  Yoshihiro, that was it---watching him unblinkingly.  On an impulse, he wheeled his horse around, rode over to the old man, pulled the hat from his head, and rubbed his head.

"What's that for?" one of the trackers muttered. 

"Luck," Eucher replied loudly, grinning down maliciously at the old man.  Yoshihiro stared back at him with something like contempt.

"Vamoose, everybody," Eucher said curtly.  The three men left the camp, spreading out a little, their eyes already searching the ground.

They rode silently. There was no point in warning Robinson with a lot of loud talk, and besides, there wasn't that much to say.  Eucher knew they'd find the Korean; the only question was when.  He touched his shotgun from time to time, finding it reassuring beneath his fingers.  "Felt he cannot be touched," Eucher whispered under his breath.  "Fat chance."

He knew that killing Robinson would be a real pleasure.

When he reined up a couple of hours later the others did the same.  Silently he unscrewed his canteen top, took a drink of water, and offered it to the man next to him.  His eyes searched the horizon; then he pointed. "Over there?" he suggested softly.

The others shrugged and turned their horses.

The wind had died.  Nothing moved by the three hunters.  Eucher touched his gun again.

Suddenly the horses stopped, nostrils flaring.  They had caught some scent......The three men leaned forward, studying the ground with renewed intensity.

Eucher was the first one to spot it.  (Actually, his horse shied.  Eucher isn't smart enough to discover it!) He admitted to himself that Robinson had done a good job of camouflaging; the brush looked very nearly normal.  Still, he could see the difference.  Signaling the others, he swung down from his horse and picked up his shotgun.  The others did the same, then moved forward stealthily to the edge of Robinson's shelter.  Three double-barreled shotguns trained towards the brush covering the pit.

Eucher thought a rabbit wouldn't stand a chance in there now.  Pity he won't know what hit him.  Aloud, he said, "Say your prayers, slantman!" and squeezed t he trigger.  The two trackers fired almost simultaneously.

They were staring at the ruined cover of the shelter when they heard a slight sound behind them.  When they turned, they saw Robinson on the rocky ledge above, watching them.  Before they could move to reload, Robinson had leaped down.

The fight that followed was brief.

By late afternoon, three riderless horses had found their way back to the railroad camp.

"Shall I take more men and go look for them," the guard that had reported to Bronco asked.

"No," Bronco snarled.  "How many men do you think I can spare?  If they're alive, they'll get back here.  If not, they can wait until I've got my hands around Robinson's throat.  Get me Yoshihiro."

"Sir," the guard said, repressing an impulse to salute.  Bronco followed him out of the tent.

"Obed!" he bellowed to the blacksmith. "Get over here." He explained what he wanted done.  By the time the guard came back with Yoshihiro, the smith had anchored one beam across another, forming a rough cross.  At Bronco's direction, he pulled it to the edge of the camp.

"Get the boys, and have 'em bring guns.  I'll watch him," Bronco told the guard.  "Tell them to find cover in the rocks up there.  Nobody take any chances.  Tell them to wait for my signal."276Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9ymjYiBEWy

He watched, nerves raw, as the men slipped into position.  When he was satisfied, he tied Yoshihiro to the cross.  The sun was getting lower in the sky, he noted.  He'd have to act fast or Robinson would have the advantage of nightfall.276Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsACtPG6wh3

 "Robinson!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth.  "This is Bronco! They tell me you'll be able to hear me." He paused, hearing his voice echo back faintly from the rocks beyond. "I want to talk to you, Robinson, face to face.  I want it to happen while it's still daylight, while I got an even chance.  In case you've got any doubts, maybe I should tell you the boys have staked out a friend of yours---Yoshihiro, the old man." He stopped again to let that soak in.  "If you're not back in the camp before sundown, I don't think I'll be able to stop them.  They want to nail him to a railroad tie."

Then he waited.

On the rocks above him, a figure appeared:  Robinson.  

Bronco waited as Robinson walked towards him.  Behind Robinson, the guards moved in, their guns aimed at his back.276Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhOYWaC4JoZ