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she was to meet someone who would pay her way. Isn't that right, Miss Walker?" |
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The woman hesitated. Thorn suspected there was a grain of truth in what the man said. |
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But he had heard what the men had called as they'd followed her. They intended to sell her to an Indian. |
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"Bring Pierce to me, then." She made her demand bravely despite her obvious fear. "He can pay my fare here, and his own to join me." |
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"That wasn't the arrangement," said the heavy man. His round face was set in a scowl. "Come along, Miss Walker." |
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"No!" She glanced at Thorn, her eyes again pleading. |
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He allowed the heavy rifle to sag just a little. "Since Miss Walker chooses to stay here, gentlemen, you'd best be on your way." |
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The heavy man's hand moved, and a flintlock pistol appeared in it. It was pointed toward Thorn. "It seems we have a deadlock, mister. There's no sense in your getting hurt for a contrary woman." |
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"Maybe not," said Thorn, steadying his firearm once more and preparing it to shoot. "But I might say the same to you." |
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Sensitive to the tiniest movement his adversary might make, Thorn anticipated the man's firing the pistol. He pulled the trigger of his rifle before sparks from the pistol's firing mechanism could ignite the priming powder. As intended, his bullet struck the man in the upper arm, making his shot go wild. |
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"Hey," cried the younger man. His right ann moved, and in moments he, too, was aiming a pistol at Thorn. Thorn, unfortunately, did not have another rifle. He grabbed the woman, pulling her with him behind the thick trunk of the nearest oak, just as the pistol went off. A piece of shattered bark whizzed past his head. |
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The pungent odor of burned gunpowder hung in the air. Thorn carefully looked around the tree, praying that neither man had more than one firearm. No. The young man was reloading, His larger companion leaned against a thin syca- |
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