She had not yet recovered
control of the machine, but, though her eyes instinctively
followed the white road that flashed past, she again had
photographed on her brain the scene of the turbid tragedy in
which she was intervening.
At the foot of the butte the road circled and dipped into the
coulee. She braced herself for the shock, but, though the wheels
skidded till her heart was in her throat, the automobile, hanging
on the balance of disaster, swept round in safety.
Her horn screamed an instant warning to the trapped man. She
could not see him, and for an instant her heart sank with the
fear that they had killed him. But she saw then that they were
still firing, and she continued her honking invitation as the car
leaped forward into the zone of spitting bullets.
By this time she was recovering control of the motor, and she
dared not let her attention wander, but out of the corner of her
eye she appreciated the situation. Temporarily, out of sheer
amaze at this apparition from the blue, the guns ceased their
sniping. She became aware that a light curly head, crouched low
in the sage-brush, was moving rapidly to meet her at right
angles, and in doing so was approaching directly the line of
fire.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26