"I trust you, kid. You're
her brother."
"I--I want to live like Sis wants me to. But I've got to tie
yuh, Mr. Birnie, and that looks-- But they'd k--you don't
know how they kill traitors. I saw one--" He leaned against
Bud's leg, one hand reaching up to the saddle horn and
gripping it in a passing frenzy." If you say so," he
whispered rapidly, "we'll sneak up and shoot 'em through the
window before they get a chance--"
Bud reached out his hand and patted Eddie on the shoulder."
That job of yours don't call for any killing we can avoid,"
he said. "Go ahead and tie me. No use of wasting lead on two
men when one will do. It's all right. I trust you, pardner."
Eddie's shoulders stiffened. He stood up, looked toward the
light and gripped Bud's hand. "I thought they'd be asleep--
what was home," he said. "We got to ride past the cabin to
get out through another water-wash. But you take your coat
and tie your horse's feet, and I'll tie mine. I--can't tie
you, Mr. Birnie. We'll chance it together."
Bud did not say anything at all, for which Eddie seemed
grateful. They muffled eight hoofs, rode across the canyon's
bottom and passed the cabin so closely that the light of a
smoky lantern on a table was plainly visible to Bud, as was
the shaggy profile of a man who sat with his arms folded,
glowering over a pipe.
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