"TAGGART" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

east. After that I think Connie will feel different ... and I'm planning a real house,
something she can be proud of."
He passed the glasses to his sister. "He's across ... he's disappeared in the brush
on this side."
He caught her shoulder. "Look! West of him ... see the dust?"
She shifted the glasses to study the dust cloud, and saw a war party of perhaps a
dozen Apaches, traveling in the same direction as the strange rider, but some distance
from him.
There was no way they could warn him without revealing their position. And Consuelo
was alone at the house. "Apaches," she said.
He got to his feet. "Let's get back before they cut us off." They snatched their
rifles and almost ran down the steep trail. At the canyon they could defend themselves,
but caught out like this they would be killed in a matter of minutes if they were
seen, and alone in the canyon Consuelo could do little. The lone rider must shift
for himself.
Swante Taggart,rode down off the mesa and into the water. At this point it was scarcely
knee-deep for the horse, and a few minutes later Swante rode up the bank and into
the willows along the river.
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TAGGART 27 Dismounting there under cover of the brush, he trailed his
reins and walked back to the edge of the water. With a clump of sage he brushed out
his tracks and sifted dry sand over them until all evidence of his crossing had been
eliminated. On the other side of the river he had been riding across shelving rock.
He worked his way through the brush, leading his horse, and paused in the outer edge
and with his field glasses studied the mountains ahead of him. Only a few minutes
earlier Adam and Miriam Stark had fled down the trail, but he was too late to have
seen them there, and their route led down a deep, water-worn cut.
Still leading the steeldust, he went up an arroyo. Suddenly he felt the horse's head
come up and saw his ears prick. "Easy, boy!" he whispered. "Easy, now."
The gelding turned slightly toward him, but the ears remained pricked, listening.
And then Swante Taggart heard the sound himself, a click of a hoof on stone.
Drawing the horse back under the slight overhang, he waited, rifle in hand.
The shadow of a riding Indian appeared on the far wall, then another, then several.
One hand on the nose of the steeldust, Swante waited, his heart pounding heavily.
Sweat trickled down his cheeks, and inside he was cold and still. A pebble fell near
him, then a trickle of sand. Letting go the gelding's nose, he lifted his rifle.
He could hear the low mutter of their voices, for they were scarcely fifteen feet
above him. They argued briefly, and then moved off along the edge of the arroyo,
and he knew enough of their language to know they were looking for something. But
what? Who?
He squatted on his heels against the wall, the rifle across his knees. It was growing
hot.
His canteen was full, but he knew that neither the horse nor himself could go on
as they had ... they must find a place and hole up for a rest. Also, Shoyer must
still be on the trail, and the reason was obvious, for there were only two places
he might be going ... to Globe or to Morenci.
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28 Louis L'AMOUR
The thing to do was to stop. If a man left no tracks none could be found, and Pete
Shoyer would go on to Globe, then to Morenci, looking for him.