“Because if they hain’t there will not be a single hoof left. The red devils know you’ll try to find the gal, and so they think they’ll kinder pitch into the ring and help themselves.”
“What is to be done?”
“Done!” almost thundered the frontiersman in reply, as he again resumed his place in the saddle. “Done? You can go back and take care of the train if you like, but Kirk Waltermyer never leaves the trail of that gal.”
“Neither shall I.”
“Let the men go back! If your hand is only firm, and your eye true, it is all I ask; if not, you turn back too, and I’ll take the risk alone.”
“That would not be safe.”
“Safe! I have never seen an hour of safety since I cut loose from the settlements and took to a roving life. Stranger, I am a rude man, but I know, though I never had much book learnin’, that I carry my life in my hand. But there is a Power above that minds the poor, lone wanderer as well as the dweller in cities.”
“Yes; God never is forgetful of his children.”
“But, stranger, we must not stand to talk here. Yender goes a thievin’, throat-cuttin’ gang of red-skins. They mean to have your stock; but if your boys are only steady and fight half as well as La Moine, they will go back howlin’ without ary a hoof.”
“Let us proceed, then. Cattle, property of any kind, is not to be thrown into the scale against my daughter.”