Get a Load of This полностью

     He glanced at his wrist-watch. Cortez had been gone an hour. Eleven more hours to wait, and then he could go too. Suppose Pablo didn't attack? Suppose, after all, he could get away from this farm and follow Cortez into safety over the hill. If that happened, he would not risk another day like this. He would go immediately to Nina and together they would slip across the border and forget all about the revolution. They would live, then, for themselves. Hadn't he done enough for the revolution? One man couldn't make it a success. No matter how hard he fought, it wasn't enough. No, he would go with Nina and forget about it for ever.

     Golz, on the crest of the hill, was standing very still with his back turned to the farm. Holtz watched him idly. Then his heart gave a sudden lurch as Golz spun on his heel and began to run towards the farm. Holtz could see the dust spurting up under his feet as he came. He beat the air with one hand and held his rifle a little away from his body with the other.

     Holtz knew what it meant. He felt a cold sweat break out under his arms and his mouth went very dry. He sat by the gun, holding the shaped firing lever tightly. Golz pounded past Dedos, and Holtz heard him shout something to him as he passed. Dedos scrambled to his feet and ran over to the box-exploder. Holtz could see the flash of his teeth as he grinned delightedly. He didn't care about Pablo. He had no fear. Perhaps, when he was killed, he had no one who would die a little because of his death.

     Golz had reached the farm, and Holtz could hear him speaking to Castra. The sergeant came upstairs. His face was immovable as he saluted stiffly. “A body of horsemen are approaching,” he said. “They are some way off. Am I to go forward and ascertain their strength?”

     Holtz nodded. “Report to me immediately,” he said. He hoped Castra hadn't seen fear in his face. “Be careful that they do not see you.”

     It was an absurd thing to have said, but he wanted to show Castra that he was intent on the operation, instead of wishing that he was miles away from it.

     Castra came back after several minutes. “It is a patrol,” he said; “about fifteen men. There is no sign of the main body of the army.”

     Holtz got to his feet. This was unexpected. He had laid a big mine, expecting the whole of Pablo's army. How long it would be before Pablo arrived on the scene he couldn't guess, but it was useless to use the mine on a mere handful of men. He told Castra to recall Dedos. “The Lewis gun will be enough for them. Take your rifles and cover the road as well. When they come within range, I will do what I can to wipe them all out, and then you can finish the rest by rifle-fire.”

     He watched Castra place his men under cover. Dedos had taken his rifle and had gone behind a large iron barrel which had been used to store gasoline. Holtz could see him quite clearly. There was a heavy, savage frown on his face, and Holtz guessed he was very disappointed that he was not to fire the mine.

     Holtz laid the Lewis gun's sights directly on the middle of the road. He hoped the approaching patrol would be massed together. He mustn't take any chances. He knew that he might have Pablo's main army to deal with very shortly. The patrol would have to be wiped out immediately and no one to escape to warn Pablo.

     It seemed a long time before the horsemen suddenly appeared over the crest of the hill. They came down the road in two files. They seemed in no hurry and they sat their horses easily. Their rifles were across their backs, and they seemed to be quite unaware that they might run into an ambush at any moment.

     Holtz adjusted the sight of the gun. Two long bursts ought to do it, he thought. He was aware that his heart was bounding and fluttering against his ribs. He was holding the firing lever so tightly that his hands ached. He would wait until they were within twenty feet of the mine. It wouldn't do for them to disturb Dedos' work. He could see them quite plainly now. They were all very young looking, hard and cruel. One of them was singing in a mournful way as he jogged along. The horses looked as if they had come far. Their black hides glistened with sweat and they kept tossing their heads impatiently. They were good horses, and Holtz automatically shifted the sights of the gun a little higher. He loved horses and it meant more to him to kill a horse than it did to kill one of Pablo's men.