"David L. Robbins - Endworld 05 - Dakota Run" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

The man stared beyond her and discovered the reason for her panic.

Eight horsemen were on her trail, approaching at full gallop, some of
them laughing and shouting and waving their arms, evidently enjoying
themselves and their pursuit of the hapless female. One of them fired a
rifle he was holding, pointing the barrel straight up.

The shot caused the fleeing woman to try to run even faster.

Fun and games. The man in green frowned, debating his course of
action. Ordinarly, he would assist the woman without any hesitation. But
after his recent experiences in Montana, after being betrayed by a woman
he thought he could trust, after being almost killed, he wondered if he
were justified in interfering. For all he knew, the woman might deserve
whatever these men had planned for her.

The woman was tiring, her pace flagging. She nearly stumbled,
recovering her footing at the last instant, and lunged forward.

Cheering wildly, the horsemen bore down on their prey. One of them
pulled ahead of his companions, a lariat in his left hand.

The woman glanced over her right shoulder and screamed again, her
lengthy black tresses flying.

The man on the hill bent over at the waist and ran toward the woman,
keeping his body hidden below the chest-high grass and weeds, his sturdy
legs pumping. He couldn't just idly stand by and watch the horsemen
harm the woman, if that was what they intended to do. If he could get
close enough without being seen, he might learn what this was all about.
 Weariness pervading her lithe body, the woman slowed, unable to
maintain her frantic pace.

The lead horseman had his lariat ready, and as he closed in on the
woman he began swinging the rope in a wide circle over his head. When
his horse, a powerful mare, was ten yards from his victim, he released the
lariat and watched with satisfaction as the loop swung out and down,
encircling the woman and pinning her arms to her sides.

"Ya-hoo!" the horseman exclaimed, elated. He never missed a beat as
he tightened his grip on the lariat, his mare passing the woman and
racing up the valley.

"No!" the woman managed to shout, a moment before she was brutally
jerked from her feet and flung to the exposed turf.

The horseman goaded his steed to greater speed, glancing over his left
shoulder, laughing as the woman was dragged along the ground, bouncing
and twisting, her torn and tattered form flapping at the end of the lariat.