"Up in front. What's the matter?" and the men began to look uneasy.
Seeing the excitement in the rear, Duncan came riding back. "What's the trouble?" he asked, gruffly.
"Don't know," answered one of the men, "but Josh Hicks has jest come up, his hoss covered with foam, and he seems mighty skeered about something."
Just then Hicks caught sight of Duncan, and yelled: "Bill, did yo' un meet a party of about a dozen men a few minutes ago?"
"Yes; what of it?"
"An' yo'un had them and let them go?" fairly screamed Hicks.
"Of course; they were Poindexter's men."
"Poindexter's men! Hell!" Hicks shouted. "They was Yanks in disguise, an' one of them was that damned boy scout of the Merrill Hoss. I know him, and I saw the dawg."
"Be you sure, Josh?" asked Duncan.
"Sure? Of course I'm sure. Don't I know the boy, and don't I know the dawg? Can I forgit the brute that had his teeth in my throat? Oh, yo' un be a nice one, yo' un be, Bill, to let them fellers slip through your fingers!"