Hoping against hope, Brent waited for five minutes with a clammy sweat
on his forehead, but there was still no sign of a returning Bud
Sellers. Then Brent unwillingly admitted that it was a pure and
unmitigated case of desertion under fire.
"My God," he groaned. "He quit me cold--quit like a dog! He simply
cut and ran!"
With a sickened heart he rode on. His head ached from the near touch
of the assassin's bullet. He was not even watching for a second
ambuscade, and fortunately for him, there was none. But with dulled
observation he passed by a place where, close to the road, a shaft ran
back into an abandoned coal mine and he followed his dejected course
without suspecting that at that moment Alexander was being held a
prisoner in the cavern to which that shaft gave access.
CHAPTER XI
The men who had come into town for the purpose of co-operating with
Jerry O'Keefe and with Halloway had of course drifted in singly and
with no seeming of cohesion. It was vital that they should avoid any
manifest community of purpose, yet they were armed, ready and alert,
awaiting only a signal to gather out of scattered elements into a
close-knit force with heavy striking-power.
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