Collection 1980 - Yondering (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Read Free Book Online Page B

right and it takes you right up to the building. If we get into that ditch, we’ve got it made.”
    There was no moon, but the stars were bright. The rear parapet had been partly knocked down by the explosion of a shell. They went over fast, Jerry first, then Dugan. Flat on their faces, they wormed across the dark ground, moving fast but silently. The ground was still hot. In the darkness his hand touched something warm. It was a gun, an automatic. He thought of Slim and felt suddenly sick; then he remembered the sergeant who had been killed out here a few days before. He took the gun but turned at right angles. The Biscayan was close behind him, his knife in his teeth, his rifle lying across his forearms.
    Dugan heard a slight movement and looked up suddenly into the eyes of a Moor. For a split second they both stared, and then Dugan jerked his rifle forward, and the muzzle struck the Moor right below the eye. The Moor rolled back and then came up, very fast, with a knife. Dugan kicked him on the kneecap, then hit him with the butt and followed with the barrel. He went down, but another loomed up.
    There was a scream as the Biscayan ripped one up, and then Slim broke into the fight with an automatic. Then there was a roar of shots from all along the parapet. It was the expected night attack, sooner than believed and almost successful.
    Dugan came up running, saw a Moor loom up before him, and shot without lifting the rifle above his belt line. The Moor spun out of the way and fell, and Dugan fell into the ditch just one jump ahead of the Biscayan. Then Slim and Jerry joined them. Jerry was carrying three rifles and a bandoleer of cartridges.
    They went along the ditch at a stumbling run. Dugan slipped once and almost fell, but when he straightened up, the stone house was looming above them. Jerry led them to the trap door at the end of the ditch.
    The room was empty except for a desk and a couple of chairs. One chair was tipped on its side, and there were papers scattered about. The room had a musty smell, as the door and windows were heavily shuttered and barred. Both openings could be covered by rifles from the trenches below, and as the position was not a good one, the Moors had not taken it.
    Jerry dragged the heavy desk aside and struck a match to find the iron ring concealed in a crack. With a heave he opened the cellar. In the flare of the match Dugan saw that Jerry’s scalp was deeply lacerated and dried blood matted his hair on one side.
    Slim slid into the hole and a moment later was handing up bottles. Then he sent up a magnum of champagne, and the Biscayan came up with some canned fruit and cheese.
    “This guy had a taste for knickknacks,” Slim said. “There’s everything down here that you could get into a can.”
    “He took three hot ones right through the belly on the first day,” Jerry said. “He was scared and crying like a baby. I don’t believe he’d ever done a day’s duty in his life.”
    Dugan took a bottle of Chateau Margaux and a can of the cheese. The wine tasted good. After a bit he crawled into a corner, made a pillow of some cartridge pouches, and went to sleep. When he awakened, light was filtering into the room from around the shutters. Jerry was sitting wide legged near the cellar door, and he was drunk, Slim was at the desk.
    “Kid,” Slim said, “come here.”
    He had a map laid out. “See? If you get the chance, take the ditch to here, then down along that dry creek. It’s not far to the coast, and most of those boat guys will give you a lift for money. You got any money?”
    “About twenty bucks. I’ve been hiding it in case.”
    “Here.” Slim took the money he’d taken from the dead officer. “You take this.”
    “What about you?”
    “I ain’t goin’ to make it, kid. I got a hunch. If I do, we’ll go together. If you board that boat, they may take your rifle, but you keep your sidearm, you hear? Keep it hidden. You may need it before you get across.”
    He