Bill nodded at Harry. "You'd better stay here. Tom and I will be asking
some pointed questions, and our first move will depend on the answers we
get. Don't let anyone come snooping around this shack. If anyone sticks
his head in and starts to turn ugly, warn him just once--then shoot to
kill." He handed Harry a gun.
Harry nodded grimly and settled himself on the floor close to Ned. For
the first time since I'd known him, Harry looked completely sure of
himself.
As we emerged from the shack the whispering was so loud the entire camp
had been placed on the alert. There would be no need for us to go into
shack after shack, watching surprise and shock come into their eyes.
A dozen or more men were between Bill's shack and the well. They were
staring grimly at the dawn, as if they could already see blood on the
sky, spilling over on the sand and spreading out in a sinister pool at
their feet. A mirage-like pool mirroring their own hidden forebodings,
mirroring a knotted rope and the straining shoulders of men too vengeful
to know the meaning of restraint.
Jim Kenny stood apart and alone, about forty feet from the well, staring
straight at us. His shirt was open at the throat, exposing a patch of
hairy chest, and his big hands were wedged deeply into his belt. He
stood about six feet three, very powerful, and with large feet.