“Where is your horse?”
“I hitched him to the bars.”
“Then I will take the lantern and light you on your way. The night is very dark. Once on horseback you can ride by the light of the stars,” said Olive.
“Yes, I’ll shape my course for the Missouri border, if I can run the gauntlet of the people here. Once I reach a town and civilization I shall be all right.”
They went to the bars, Olive holding her little lantern which threw a feeble ray along the pathway.
“Great God!” cried Cotterell.
“Oh, what is it? Are they coming after you?” said Olive in alarm, dropping her lantern which instantly went out.
“My horse is gone!” said Cotterell, whose eyes were now becoming accustomed to the darkness. “I left him hitched here. He was a wild young colt, not half broken. See, this is the lariat-rope wrenched in two. I was a fool to trust to that rope, and a double-dyed fool to leave him here in the dark. But I was too hungry and too sleepy to think clearly of what I was doing. That sleep will cost me my life. I shall have plenty of time to sleep, aye forever, if daylight catches me here. Mrs. Weston will you add one more benefit to the many that have gone before? Will you give me a horse?”
“Oh, so gladly if I had one,” said Olive, beginning to cry with grief and helplessness.
“Haven’t you any horses?” asked Cotterell with a gasp.