The Wood Fire in No. 3

The Wood Fire in No. 3

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Excerpt: ...the pistol on his knee within reach of his hand. From where I stood I could catch the red glint of the forelight flashing down its barrel. The men must have seen it too. 'We're goin' to chuck some wood in this 'ere stove. Got any objections?' asked the tall man, pulling his wet slouch hat from his head and beating the water out of it against the pile of firewood. The tone was a little less brutal. 'No, ' answered my brother curtly. The tall one reached over the pile, picked up a log and shoved it in the stove. Then the two stretched themselves out at full length and looked steadily at the blaze, the steam from their wet clothes filling the room. No other word was passed, either by the men or by my brother or myself, nor did we change our positions. I sat on one of the stools and my brother sat in the corner where he could draw a bead if either of the men showed fight. Three o'clock came, then four, then five, and then the cold gray light which tells of the coming dawn stole in between the cracks of the cabin and the broken window. At the first streak of light the tall man lifted himself to his feet, the short man followed, and swinging wide the door the two stalked out to the farthest edge of the pile of boulders overlooking the plain, where they squatted on their haunches, their eyes toward the east. We took our positions on a rock behind them, a little higher up. Any move they made would come under the fire of my brother's toy gun. The sun's disk rose slowly
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Product details

  • Paperback
  • 189 x 246 x 3mm | 104g
  • United States
  • English
  • black & white illustrations
  • 1236717570
  • 9781236717573