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The rain flickered down between the tall fir trees. The branches bobbed, shaking down beads of water. A lizard, unseen, went whipping and rustling through brush and fallen leaves.
Five men waited among the trees. Dark men, their hair braided. Three of them wore down-tilting feathers in their hair, another had on a headband with a bead design zigzagging around it. The fifth man stood a slight distance from the others. He was bare-chested, wearing trousers with two stripes running down the leg. In his arms, he cradled a single-action carbine.
This man----his name was Swift Fox---inhaled sharply now. He had been watching the shack, the blurred light from the single window.
The four other Utes quietly moved closer to him, listening.
Swift Fox pointed.
A long thin shadow was moving up into the woods, moving straight towards them.
Swift Fox raised his rifle.
A thickset brave, Soaring Eagle, touched his arm. "No," he said.
Robinson walked slowly between the trees, almost silently, his hands held palm-outward in front of him.
Back beyond the circle of Ute braves a pony shifted, its horses grating on the ground.
A moment later Robinson was among them. He halted near Swift Fox, not speaking, watching the five men.
Swift Fox made an angry sound deep in his throat. Backing away slightly, wide-legged, he pointed the carbine at the intruding Robinson. "Yes," he said.
Robinson, too, made a sound. A harsh sighing sound as he moved. One hand chopped out, flashing swiftly through the rainy air.
And Swift Fox found he could no longer hold the weapon. He let it fall to the ground, his right arm filled with an intense throbbing pain.
Palms out again, Robinson spoke. "We mean you no harm," he told the five Ute braves. "By morning we will be gone from here." He looked from face to face to see if any of the men understood him.
Swift Fox wasn't listening. As soon as he felt his arm come back under his control he snatched out his hunting knife. He leaped for Robinson.
Robinson moved.
The Ute clutched at empty night. An instant later a blow cracked against his neck. Gagging, he dropped his knife, tumbled down to his knees, and fell forward onto the wet leaves.
A second brave scowled at Robinson. He fit an arrow into his bow and sent it straight at the lanky young man.
Pivoting, Robinson swung out of the line of fire. As the arrow purred by, his hand snapped out and caught it. He placed the arrow on the ground, saying, "If you leave us, then there will be no trouble for anyone. We will do you no harm."
Soaring Eagle pushed back the man who'd tried his bow on Robinson. "What do you call yourself?" he asked in the slow, careful English that he'd learned at the mission.
"I am Robinson," Robinson replied.
Studying him, Soaring Eagle asked, "What is a.....Robinson?"
"Merely a man like yourself."
"How is it that you can do what you have just done?"
Robinson replied, "How is it that you do what you do? I have studied, I have learned."
"The others," said the Indian, "down there, are they like you?"
"No."
Soaring Eagle said, "All of us, all of us against you at one time, Robinson. You will most assuredly die."
"Yes," admitted Robinson. "So will you. I came here so that no one must die."
Swift Fox was rising from the ground. "I can kill him," he said in the Ute language. "I can kill him alone, myself, alone."
"You haven't yet," Soaring Eagle reminded him in the same tongue. He turned to the others. "We will move on."
"No," said Swift Fox. "They have horses, other things, too. We agreed to...."
"It is time for a new plan," said Soaring Eagle. "We will leave."
The man who had seen Robinson pluck his arrow out of the air said, "Yes, I think we should go."
To Robinson Soaring Eagle said, in English, "We will go."
"One thing," said Robinson.
"I am listening."
The three other braves were moving up toward their mounts. Swift Fox hesitated, watching Robinson.
Robinson said, "The two men I left tied out here."
"They were your enemies surely. Do you care what becomes of them?" Asked Soaring Eagle.
"I would prefer them to live."
Soaring Eagle nodded. "They are over there, near our horses. They have not been harmed as yet. We will leave them with you, Robinson."
Making an unhappy sound, Swift Fox turned and walked away.231Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwuUjaImftk
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"It's th' middle o' th' night," complained Hopalong. "An' we ain't got no guns."
He and Craig were standing beside their horses.
"You have," Robinson told them, "a chance to live. Take it."
"Shucks now," said Craig. "Let's git th' hell outta here, Hopalong." He stuck his foot in the stirrup.
"What 'bout Smokes," asked Hopalong.
Ignoring the question, Robinson said, "You had better go now, Mr. Hopalong."
"Who gives a hoot 'bout Smokes anyhow." Craig settled into his saddle. "I dunno how ya hoo-dooed them redskins," he said down to Robinson, "but thanked fer pullin' our fat outta th' fire."
Standing straight in the rain, Robinson said, "Head back the way you came. This is the last chance you have."
"Dontcha worry," Craig said. "Ya ain't gonna see no more o' me. C'mon, Hopalong, gitcher fat butt onto that horsey."
Reluctantly the buckskin-clad man climbed up. "I still think this here's a rotten time o' night t' start a trip."
"Best o' luck t' ya," Craig called to Robinson. "Sure hope we never meet agin'."
After they had ridden away Robinson walked across the clearing towards the cabin. The rain made tiny splashes around his feet.
Katherine stood in the doorway, one slender hand resting at her throat. When she saw him she said, "Where....what happened.....was it Indians?"
Robinson halted short of the threshold. "Yes."
"How many?" asked the girl. "Were there many?"
"Not too many to reason with," Robinson replied, as he stepped into the shack.
"Are they still out there," Hare asked.
"They have gone."
"Can you tell us how many there were?" asked Hare.
"Five."
Hare watched the lanky young man's face. "Well, what exactly happened, Robinson?"
"I talked to them."
"You warned them not to come back, I hope."
"I told them it would benefit no one if we killed one another. They came to see the wisdom of this."
Morisson laughed. "Yew kin do th' dangdest things, Robinson. Betcha worked some o' yer tricks on 'em."
Katherine waited for Robinson to say something further. When she realized he wasn't going to, she asked, "Then we're safe?"
"Yes," said Robinson. 231Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL4xClvokyE
