"Thought we might cross yawl, didn'tcha, Buchanan?" "It ran through my mind." "Ran through ours, too. Like they might've paid us off big if we pulled it out for 'em." Buchanan said, "You wouldn't have got away with it. So don't do us any favors. Just be good boys." He took a deep breath. He looked at the barn door. It seemed as though it had moved farther away from the house. Twilight was coming on, and he could wait and diminish the risk. But Durkin was out there alone. It was wrong to leave a man to himself at a time like this. Buchanan ran. Again they came close to hitting him. He did not know if it was closer than before, but he could not shake off the feeling that sooner or later one of those bullets would bear his name. Durkin was staring out through the gathering darkness toward the enemy on the knoll. They would furnish the problem of the coming night. The sharpshooters in the trees would not attack lest they be cut down in the clearing is front of the house. Buchanan said, "Sutter got it in the leg, nice and clean." "Hadda happen.
