Tesno seized one of the saddle horses in front of the building and
swung across town at a canter. He got no glimpse of Madrid till he was
through the woods and at the edge of Vickers' camp; then he saw him far
ahead on the wide, slow-climbing road that led to Runaway Mountain and
the tunnel. Madrid looked back, urged his horse ahead a bit faster, and
jogged out of sight around a bend.
Tesno reined into the empty camp and rode through it at a gallop. By
taking the steep mule trail up the side of the gulch, he would avoid
the possibility of being ambushed at that bend. If Madrid waited there,
Tesno could cut him off. If not, he would at least close up some of
the distance and have a chance of overtaking him before he reached the
timber on the mountain top.
He found the horse willing and sure-footed on the narrow, twisting
trail, and he gave the animal its head. The climb took longer than he
had expected. But when at last the horse strained up the final steep
ascent onto graded roadbed, Madrid was a scant hundred yards ahead.
Tesno yelled at him to halt, drew his revolver, fired a wild shot.
Madrid continued at a trot. He rode straight to the gaping black arch
of the tunnel, then veered to the left into the road that began its
climb to the summit here. Tesno prodded his horse forward at an easy
lope. He reached the road with Madrid directly above him, hardly within
effective revolver range. Madrid wheeled his horse around, whipping a
Winchester from its boot. He quickly aimed and fired.
Tesno's horse dropped in its tracks, making a sort of uncompleted
somersault, pitching him forward out of the saddle. He landed painfully
on a shoulder, rolled to his feet. His revolver was gone; he combed
the ground with his eyes, didn't see it. A bullet drove past his head
close enough so he could hear its angry buzz. Madrid was plunging down
the road toward him, firing the rifle as he came. There was nothing to
do but run, no place to run but into the tunnel. Another bullet tore
splinters from a shoring timber at the portal as Tesno darted inside.
The tunnel was deserted, the crew in town. The arc lights that usually
lighted the shaft had been turned off. A lantern glowed just within the
portal; Tesno stooped and turned it out. He ran on into the darkness.
He looked back to see Madrid framed in the arch of the portal, getting
down from his horse, stooping to pick up something. _My gun_, Tesno
thought.
Madrid raised his rifle then and fired blindly, whimsically, into the
tunnel. Tesno leaped to the left wall and threw himself headlong.
Madrid rapidly emptied the Winchester and threw it aside. Tesno hurried
on. The dead end of the tunnel in the middle of a mountain was a hell
of a place to die, he thought. He was aware now of a light somewhere
ahead, too dim and distant to silhouette him. It must be back a way on
the bench, he thought. If he could get up there, find a weapon, that
would be the place to make a stand.
He looked back again. Madrid had found a lantern and lighted it. He
held it above his head as he walked forward. His revolver gleamed in
his other hand.
A minute later, Tesno reached the bench. This rose fourteen feet above
the floor of the tunnel. Above it, the eight-foot shaft of the heading
extended another forty or fifty feet into the mountain. The timbers
resting on the bench had to be replaced as it was removed; so it was
cut away in slices and presented a vertical face. A ladder stood
against this. Tesno scaled it and drew it up after him.
His first impulse was to put out the lantern that burned up here,
but he decided against this. He turned it up brighter and moved it
to the very edge of the bench against one wall. Using his hat and a
tool box, he quickly rigged a shield so that light was thrown below
the bench while the top of it was relatively dark. There were tools
up here--picks, pry bars, drills, sledges--that could be used as
weapons. He looked around for dynamite but saw none. Then he found a
sixteen-foot pole, probably used in maneuvering timbers into place, and
suddenly he had a plan.
He shoved the ladder forward so that two rungs projected over the edge
of the bench. He then lowered the pole, leaning it against the face of
the bench with its end in view beside the ladder.
Madrid had been approaching slowly, holding the lantern high, stopping
every few yards to shine it from side to side. He saw Tesno now--or
more likely the shadows he threw on the tunnel walls as he moved.
Anyhow, he came forward swiftly now, the revolver raised for a shot
whenever he saw a solid target.
Tesno retreated from the edge, bending low. He selected a percussion
drill as a weapon--an eight-foot steel shaft with a sharp chisel point.
Dragging this beside him, he crawled to a position near the ladder and
lay parallel to it. He watched the light from Madrid's lantern move
along the timbers at the top of the tunnel, saw it come to a halt a few
yards in front of the bench.
Madrid wasn't likely to come barging up on the bench. A surer way would
be to climb to the level of the bench a few yards in front of it. This
would bring the whole upper surface into view--and easy revolver range.
But in any case, he would have to have the ladder.
Tesno lay motionless, gripping the long, heavy drill, watching the
three inches of pole that stuck above the edge of the bench. Moving
shadows on the tunnel wall told him that Madrid had set down his
lantern and was coming quietly forward.
The pole-end moved, disappeared, reappeared between the rungs of the
ladder. Tesno rose to a crouch. This was the trap. Madrid was taking
the bait. For this moment, Tesno knew exactly where the man was.
Reaching with a sixteen foot pole is a two-handed job; Madrid's gun
would be in its holster. Grasping the drill like a spear, Tesno leaped
over the edge.
Madrid swung the pole awkwardly and too late. The sharp steel point of
the drill was already at his chest with Tesno's weight and the force
of a fourteen-foot drop behind it. He uttered a strange muffled cry as
Tesno pitched past him.
Tesno sprawled flat on the uneven floor, rolled to one side, and got
painfully to his feet. Madrid lay on his back with the drill pinning
him to the tunnel floor. He was dead when Tesno reached him.
* * * * *
A great crowd filled the street in front of the hotel. Tesno tied
Madrid's horse and elbowed his way to the entrance. Ben Vickers touched
his elbow.
"Jay shot himself," Ben said. "Seems they didn't think to search his
room. He had a gun in there. You overtake Madrid?"
"In the tunnel, Ben. Not a pretty sight."
Sam Lester came out of the lobby. He turned his thick lenses up at
Tesno and said, "No reason for Persia and me to stay in the county now.
I'm taking her away." He moved on.
"Seems like those two will get off easy," Ben said. "Then again maybe
they won't. They have each other."