[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
."I mean like this," he said.He took the gun and fired without appearing to aim, but the tin leaped like agrasshopper; the third shot caught it in the air and spun it against the sideof the hill.Urselli stared at him while the echoes rattled and died, and thecan rolled tinkling down toward them till an outcrop of stone checked it."By the way," Simon said, recalling the other's peculiarly localizedpronunciation of jernt and erled, "I thought you came from Chicago.""Well?""You wouldn't have noticed it," Simon said kindly, "but your accent betraysyou.You spent some.time in the East, didn't you-on your jewelry business?" Hewas casually slipping the empty magazine out of the automatic while he talked;and then he suddenly let out an exclamation of dismay and peered anxiouslydown into the well.A faint splash came up from far below."It slipped rightthrough my fingers," he said, looking at Urselli blankly.The other sprang up, swiftly tearing the now useless weapon out of Simon'shands."You did that on poipose!" he grated.The Saint seemed to ponder the accusation."I might have," he conceded."You handle that rod just a little too well, andyou wouldn't want to be tempted to commit murder, would you? Now suppose youhappened to run into the guy who told you that that white sapphire in yourring was a real diamond, and charged you five grand for it?"Urselli's eyes dilated incredulously towards the scintillation on his lefthand."Why, the son of a-" He pulled himself together."What's the idea?" hesnarled."Are you tryin' to put me on the spot?"Simon shook his head."No," he answered."But maybe you left Chicago because you were already onit."Intuccio came up between them."You like shooting?" he said in his deep harsh voice."I'm always ready for a bit of fun," said the Saint lightly."Maybe Amadeowould like some hunting, too.D'you think we could find anything worthshooting around here?"The innkeeper nodded hesitantly."Yesterday morning I saw the tracks of a mountain lion.If you like, we willgo out and see what we can find."An hour later Intuccio halted his horse in an arroyo two miles away.He laid aPage 65ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlrifle across Urselli's saddlebow."You will wait here," he said."We go roundthe other side of the mountain and drive him down."Urselli's glance flickered at him."How long do I wait?"The innkeeper shrugged."Perhaps three hours, perhaps four.It is a long way.But if we find him, hewill come down here." He turned calmly to the Saint."Andiamo, signor!"Simon was contented enough to follow him.Intuccio set a tiring trot; but itwas easy for the Saint, who was as iron-hard as he had ever been.A copperysun baked the air out of a sky of brilliant unbroken blue, one of thosesubtropical skies that are as flat and glazed as a painted cyclorama.Littlewhirls of dust floated up behind them as they rode, dancing a phantom veildance to the irregular tom-tom of swinging hoofbeats.Intuccio made noconversation, and Simon was left to ruminate over his own puzzle.To be outunder the blazing daylight in that ridged and castled wilderness of mightyboulders piled against steep scarps of rock, with such an enigma on his mind,gave him the exact opposite of the feeling which he had had the night before.Then he had been a spectator; now he was an actor, and he was ready, as healways was, to enjoy his share in the play.Three hours later, as they rode down the barren slopes again toward the placewhere they had left Urselli, he felt very much at peace.He had settled quitea number of things in his own mind during the ride; and about Amadeo Urselli'sown exact position in the cosmic scale he had removed all doubts even beforethey set out.He knew the rats of the big cities too well to be mistaken aboutAmadeo.But the setting for the encounter was what made it so ineffably superb.Tohave met him in the city would have been ordinary enough; but to meet the citygunman out here in the great open spaces was a poem which only the Saint'simpish sense of humor could realize to the full.Glancing down at the rifle carried ready across his pommel, the Saint evenasked himself the wild question whether Amadeo Urselli might conceivably bemistaken in a moment of well-staged excitement for a mountain lion.Almostregretfully he dismissed the idea; but when a turn of the trail brought him asight of Urselli sitting disconsolately on a rock slapping at theindefatigable flies, he felt genuinely distressed to think that such an idealopportunity had to be passed by.They rode down into the gulch, and Intuccioleaned over in the saddle with his forearm on his thigh."You have seen nothing, Amadeo?""Nothing but flies," said Urselli sourly.He was pinkly sun-broiled and very bad-tempered; and the sight of his miseryalmost made up for the fact that they had not seen so much as a toe print ofthe mountain lion which they had set out to look for.They arrived back at the hotel a few minutes after four.Urselli was the firstto dismount, moving stiffly from the exertion of the day.He stopped to read amessage that was nailed to the door; Simon, coming up behind him, saw theconventional black hand at the head of the letter before he could distinguishthe words; and then Intuccio's arm drove between them and ripped it down.Page 66ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlUrselli spoke from the side of a thin hard mouth."I though there were no more bad men."Intuccio did not answer.The paper crumpled in his grasp, and without a wordhe thrust them both aside and crashed through the door.He stumbled over anupturned chair in the gloom as he went in; and then they stood on either sideof him surveying the wreck of the kitchen.The center table was tilteddrunkenly against the range of the far end, and two other chairs were flunginto different corners, one of them broken.A saucepan lay at their feet; andlittle splashes of shattered china and glass winked up at them from the floor.Intuccio dragged himself across the room and detached a fragment of gailyprinted cotton stuff from the back of the broken chair.He stared at itdumbly.Then, without speaking, he held out the message from the door.Simon took it and smoothed it out.If you wish to see your daughter again, bring $20,000 in cash to the top ofSkeleton Hill by midnight tonight.Come alone and unarmed.We shall not send asecond warning.Death pays for treachery."You gotta pay, Salvatore," Urselli was saying."I'm tellin' ya.You can'tfool with kidnapers.A gang that snatches a girl won't stop for nothin'.Say,I remember when Red McLaughlin put the arm on Sappho Lirra-"Intuccio straightened up lifelessly, like a stunned giant."I must find the sheriff," he said.The Saint's hand crossed his path, barring it, in a gesture as lithe and vividas the flick of a sword."Let me go."He went down the short road to the town with a light step.This was adventureas he understood it, objective and decisive, like a blast of music; and theSaint smiled as he went.Far might it be from him to deny the home-coming ofAmadeo Urselli any of its quintessential poetry.He walked into the sheriff'soffice and found Saddlebag's solitary representative of the law at home."Lucia Intuccio has been kidnapped," he said."Will you come up?"The man's eyes bulged."Kidnaped?" he repeated incredulously."There was a note calling for twenty thousand dollars ransom nailed to thedoor," said the Saint, and the sheriff took down his gun belt."I'll be right along."Simon went with him.The news spread like an epidemic, and a dozen men hadgathered in the back room when they arrived [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]