The shooting had ceased as suddenly as it began. All was silent before them. That silence was ominous.
“I’m afraid we’ll arrive too late,” said Dick regretfully.
Soon they were dashing down the road. To the left they caught a glimpse of another brown highway, the one on which they had seen the galloping horsemen. It was plain that the two roads met not far beyond.
They had made no mistake in thinking it the purpose of those horsemen to intercept the carriage. The sound of firearms had told them that the meeting was not of a peaceful nature. Dick dreaded yet was anxious to know the result.
Beyond and beneath them was a gloomy hollow. But for the clatter produced by their own horse, they might have heard the echo of hoofbeats receding and dying out in the distance of that hollow. The nature of the landscape concealed from their eyes the road that led through it and into the rugged hills beyond.
Soon they came dashing into view of the carriage they had pursued. It was overthrown on its side. One of the two horses that had drawn it was down. The driver had managed to clear the other animal, which was taking all of his attention. He was the only human being in sight. As they came on, he gave them an apprehensive look, seeming on the point of abandoning the horse and taking to his heels.
“There sure has been the old blazes to pay there, Dick!” cried Brad.
All at once, as they drew near, out from the wreck of the carriage leaped a puff of smoke. A pistol spoke and a bullet sung unpleasantly near the boys.
“Mighty bad shooting,” observed the Texan.
He flung the horse to a stand. Dick was the first to leap to the ground. Advancing toward the carriage, peering forth from which he caught a glimpse of an ashen face, he cried: