Hal put the revolver in his friend’s hand.
“Don’t hesitate to fire if one of them makes a false move,” he said. “They would kill you in a moment if they had the chance.”
“I’ll use it if necessary; have no fear about that,” replied Chester.
Hal arose and left the room and the house. He gazed up and down the road. There was no sign of troops, nor, by listening intently, could he hear hoof beats. He made his way to where he had left his horse, and tied it alongside the horse that had brought Chester to the house. Then he returned to Chester and his prisoners.
“There is no telling how long we may have to wait for our men to return,” he said to his friend. “Do you suppose that if I lifted you up on your horse you could ride?”
“I am sure of it,” replied Chester.
“That is the best plan,” said Hal. “Come, then, we will try it.”
He went to Chester’s side, and still holding the revolver in his right hand, threw his left arm around his friend’s neck. Chester put an arm about Hal’s shoulder, and thus supported, made his way from the room without much pain.
Hal made a stirrup of his hand, and Chester, putting his foot into it, was soon astride his horse, though he winced somewhat with the pain the exertion gave him. Then Hal sprang into his own saddle, and the two turned their horses’ heads in the direction of the main body of Cossacks.
Along the narrow mountain trail they rode slowly for perhaps an hour without the sight of either friend or foe. Then, rounding a sharp turning in the pass, at the top of a steep section of the road, Hal reined in suddenly with a muttered imprecation. Chester followed his friend’s example.