262
The silver dollar hits the dusty soil, spins, and then settles heads-up.
‘OK men, that decides it,’ says Captain Frankland, stooping to pick up the coin. ‘We hit Columbus right now. Sergeant—you and Knott see what sort o’ extra protection you can rig up to the truck’s front fender, while me an’ Cal set up firing positions in the back.’
‘I don’t think we’re gonna have time for that, sir,’ says Knott, apologetically. ‘Looks like more o’ Mad Dog’s boys are on their way.’ He points along the highway at an ominous column of dust that is approaching from the south.
‘Hell!’ spits Frankland. ‘We’ll just have to take our chances. Mount up men. We’ve got a date to keep an’ I aim to be there on time.’
