“Stop, or I’ll shoot! You can’t steal my animal!”
It was an idle threat, for, in the gloom, he only knew the direction taken by the man and beast, and his shot, therefore, must have been at random.
“Shoot if you want to,” was the defiant reply; “but the flash of your gun will give us the show to drop you!”
Surely he had heard that voice before.
“Strubell, is that you?” he called, still hurrying forward, but with his weapon lowered.
Two persons now laughed, and the well-known tones of the Texan called back:
“You’ll have to practise a while, young man, before you learn how to trail Indians and horse thieves.”
Delighted beyond measure, Herbert quickly joined the friends, whom he had hardly expected to meet again.
“I was afraid you were killed,” said he, “and had no idea you were near me. Where did you come from?”