lla.theburninghills-第23部分

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h　of　the　Pass　at　different　points。　Beyond　the　Guadalupes　the　country　was　unfamiliar　to　him　except　for　that　area　covered　in　his　flight。
　He　rode　steadily　into　the　morning　and　from　time　to　time　he　saw　her　tracks。　Six　or　seven　miles　from　the　Bancho　she　stopped　at　a　tank　to　water　her　horse；　then　pushed　on。　She　was　holding　a　steady　gait　and　he　saw　no　other　evidences　of　travel　but　those　made　by　her　pony。
　Word　was　out　that　Apache　raiding　parties　were　riding；　which　was　enough　to　stop　all　travel。　It　was　no　time　for　a　lone　man　to　be　on　the　road；　to　say　nothing　of　a　pretty　girl。　Yet　before　he　could　even　see　the　cleft　that　marked　the　Pass；　he　saw　a　rider　on　a　bay　horse　ing　toward　him。
　Trace　Jordan　slid　the　loop　off　his　gun　butt　and　eased　himself　in　the　saddle；　holding　his　pace。　The　rider　came　on；　a　little　slower。
　When　not　more　than　two　hundred　yards　separated　them；　Jordan　slowed　his　horse。　At　the　same　moment　he　recognized　the　rider　as　the　man　who　had　warned　him　away　after　drinking　with　him　in　Tokewanna。
　〃Howdy。〃　Jordan　drew　up。　The　man's　face　was　pale　under　the　tan。　〃I'm　Joe　Sutton；〃　he　said；　〃and　I'm　not　huntin'　trouble。〃　
　〃Then　there　will　be　no　trouble。〃
　Joe　Sutton　took　the　makings　from　his　pocket　and　began　to　roll　a　smoke。　〃You　。。。　did　you　see　anything　of　Ben？　And　the　others？〃
　〃I　saw　them　。　。　。　Ben's　at　Slaughter's　and　he's　alive。　I　think　hell　pull　through；〃
　The　match　broke　in　Button's　fingers　and　Jordan　leaned　over　and　held　his　cigarette　to　Button's。
　〃Mort？〃
　〃He's　dead　。。。　so's　Old　Jake　but　the　Apaches　did　that；　not　me。〃
　He　explained；　taking　his　time；　first　what　had　happened　at　the　rocks　and　after。　He　told　of　the　ride　back　to　the　border　with　Ben　Hindeman。
　〃Pass　anybody　on　the　trail？〃　he　asked　then。
　〃No。〃　Sutton　looked　thoughtful。　〃Saw　some　tracks；　though。　They　showed　up　first　inside　the　Pass　so　whoever　made　'em　must　have　turned　off。〃
　〃What　happened　to　Buck　Bayless　and　that　fellow　Parker？〃
　Joe　Sutton　shrugged。　〃Parker　is　dead　。。。　Bayless　is　hurt　but　not　bad。　The　way　I　hear　it；　they　went　to　the　North　to　try　to　make　that　Chavero　kid　tell　where　his　sister　went。　They　ran　into　Vicente。〃
　〃And。。。？〃
　〃I　reckon　we　had　Vicente　figured　all　wrong。　He　wasn't　about　to　back　down。　So　Buck　says。　Vicente　told　Wes　to　travel　an'　Wes　didn't　take　to　it　We　buried　Wes　next　morning。〃
　There　was　still　a　thing　to　be　settled。　Jordan　wanted　to　be　riding　on；　but　there　was　no　time　better　than　now。　There　had　been　too　much　killing　and　Joe　Sutton　seemed　a　reasonable　man。
　〃Ben　Hindeman　said　the　fight's　over。　I'm　getting　my　horses　back。〃
　〃Ben's　the　boss。〃　Joe　Button　was　relieved。　〃Fool　thing；　anyhow。〃　He　threw　down　his　cigarette；　half…smoked。　〃Jack　and　Mort　。。。　yes；　and　Wes　too。　They　got　us　into　more　trouble　than　we　could　get　out　of。〃
　Trace　Jordan　reined　his　horse　over。　〃See　you；〃　he　said　and　put　Big　Red　down　the　trail。　Being　a　cautious　man；　he　glanced　back　but　Joe　Sutton　was　riding　on。
　It　was　almost　sundown　when　he　found　her。　Maria　Cristina　had　made　camp　in　a　little　wooded　draw　off　the　Pass。　She　got　up　from　the　fire　as　he　rode　up；　her　face　without　expression。　He　swung　his　horse　alongside　the　fire。
　〃What　did　you　ride　off　for？〃　he　demanded　irritably。
　〃I　do　not　run。　I　go　home。〃　She　knelt　beside　the　fire；　knelt　suddenly　as　if　her　knees　had　weakened。　She　began　fussing　over　the　food　she　was　preparing。　In　the　late　afternoon　light　her　face　seemed　unnaturally　pale。
　He　swung　down。　〃Damn　it；　you　didn't　have　to　run　off！　You　could　have　said　something！〃
　〃Why？　Who　I　say　something　to？。。。　To　you？〃
　〃I　don't　want　you　going　off　like　that；〃　he　protested。　〃This　is　no　time　for　a　woman　to　be　traveling　alone。〃
　She　did　not　look　up；　adding　sticks　to　the　fire。　Then　she　added　sullenly；　〃I　am　all　right。〃
　The　words　he　had　been　thinking　on　the　trail　were　gone。　Somewhere　he　had　lost　them。　He　told　her　of　Vicente　and　Wes　Parker　but　she　would　not　look　at　him。　She　put　coffee　in　the　water　and　got　up。
　He　stepped　around　the　fire　and　took　her　by　the　arms。　〃Maria　Cristina；　I　don't　want　you　going　away。　Not　ever　again。　I　want　you　with　me。〃
　She　turned　on　him；　looking　up　into　his　eyes；　and　there　was　no　longer　sullenness　there；　or　anger。　〃You　don't　know　what　you　say。〃
　〃I　know　all　right　…〃　She　tried　to　draw　away　from　him；　her　eyes　suddenly　wary；　half…frightened。　〃No　。。。　you　take　your　hands　off。〃　She　tried；　ineffectually；　to　twist　out　of　his　grip。
　〃Don't　do　that！〃　he　said　sharply；　angrily。　He　drew　her　swiftly　into　his　arms；　her　body　ing　against　his。　She　looked　up　at　him；　her　eyes　very　black　and　suddenly　burning；　almost　hungry。
　Then　desperately；　fiercely；　she　fought　him。　She　fought　to　twist　free；　to　get　away。　He　held　her；　then　slowly　and　inexorably　he　brought　her　mouth　around　to　his。
　She　twisted　her　face　away；　fighting　like　a　panther　to　escape；　then　suddenly；　fiercely；　she　turned　her　mouth　to　his　and　their　lips　met　and　clung。
　He　held　her；　saying　nothing。　〃Just　ain't　halter…broke；〃　he　said　gently；　〃but　you'll　do。　You'll　do　all　right。〃　She　stood　quiet　in　his　arms　and　the　big　red　horse　moved　off　a　few　steps　and　fell　to　cropping　grass。　He　had　his　own　degrees　of　patience　and　was　being　accustomed　to　the　oddities　of　human　behavior。
　Later；　when　most　of　the　coffee　had　boiled　away；　Jordan　drank　it；　black　and　strong。
　She　looked　at　him；　her　eyes　soft　in　the　gathering　dusk。　〃You　know　one　time　I　say　I　don't　think　you　ever　make　it？〃
　〃I　remember。〃
　〃Well。。。　now　I　think　maybe　you　make　it。〃
　She　laughed　then；　a　laugh　teasing　and　tender；　a　soft　laughter　that　lost　itself　with　the　campfire　smoke　in　the　brush　along　the　canyon's　wall。
　
　ABOUT　THE　AUTHOR
　Louis　L'Amour；　born　Louis　Dearborn　L'Amour；　is　of　French…Irish　descent。　Although　Mr。　L'Amour　claims　his　writing　began　as　a　〃spur…of…the…moment　thing；〃　prompted　by　friends　who　relished　his　verbal　tales　of　the　West；　he　es　by　his　talent　honestly。　A　frontiersman　by　heritage　（his　grandfather　was　scalped　by　the　Sioux）；　and　a　universal　man　by　experience；　Louis　L'Amour　lives　the　life　of　his　fictional　heroes。　Since　leaving　his　native　Jamestown；　North　Dakota；　at　the　age　of　fifteen；　he's　been　a　longshoreman；　lumberjack；　elephant　handler；　hay　stocker；　flume　builder；　fruit　picker；　and　an　officer　on　tank　destroyers　during　World　War　II。　And　he's　written　four　hundred　short　stories　and　over　fifty　books　（including　a　volume　of　poetry）。
　Mr。　L'Amour　has　lectured　widely；　traveled　the　West　thoroughly；　studied　archaeology；　piled　biographies　of　over　one　thousand　Western　gunfighters；　and　read　prodigiously　（his　library　holds　more　than　two　thousand　volumes）。　And　he's　watched　thirty…one　of　his　westerns　as　movies。　He's　circled　the　world　on　a　freighter；　mined　in　the　West；　sailed　a　dhow　on　the　Red　Sea；　been　shipwrecked　in　the　West　Indies；　stranded　in　the　Mojave　Desert　He's　won　fifty…one　of　fifty…nine　fights　as　a　professional　boxer　and　pinch…hit　for　Dorothy　Kilgallen　when　she　was　on　vacation　from　her　column。　Since　1816；　thirty…three　members　of　his　family　have　been　writers。　And；　he　says；　〃I　could　sit　in　the　middle　of　Sunset　Boulevard　and　write　with　my　typewriter　on　my　knees；　temperamental　I　am　not。〃
　Mr。　L'Amour　is　re…creating　an　1865　Western　town；　christened　Shalako；　where　the　borders　of　Utah；　Arizona；　New　Mexico；　and　Colorado　meet　Historically　authentic　from　whistle　to　well；　it　will　be　a　live；　operating　town；　as　well　as　a　movie　location　and　tourist　attraction。
　Mr。　L'Amour　now　lives　in　Los　Angeles　with　his　wife　Kathy；　who　helps　with　the　enormous　amount　of　research　he　does　for　his　books。　Soon；　Mr。　L'Amour　hopes；　the　children　（Beau　and　Angelique）　will　be　helping　too。
　





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