Yet he moved rapidly, a strange eagerness lighting up his eyes.
Jim Duff knew that he would never again dare to enter the town of
Paloma, yet the gambler thirsted, before fleeing to new scenes, to be
revenged on Tom Reade. With that object in view, Duff was willing to
take great risks.
As for Ashby, who, still clutching his shotgun in his left hand,
staggered along under the burden of Hazelton's weight, the hotel man was
no longer responsible for his actions. Rage and wickedness had made him
a maniac, who might be restrained but could not be punished by law.
Within two minutes the firing behind them died out. Soon there were
distant sounds of searching. Plainly Hawkins and the other friends of
the young engineers were hunting diligently for Tom and Harry.
"Dump your man, Ashby," commanded Jim Duff, halting at last. "It will
be a mistake to go too far. Their friends won't expect to find 'em so
close, and they'll soon be searching farther away."
So Ashby dropped Harry on to the sand beside Tom.
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