"After what has taken place, there's little fear of Sterry making any mistake on that point," said Whitney, who was so pleased over the outcome of matters that he could speak in gentler terms than he would have used had the circumstances been different.
It would seem strange that these men, who but a brief time before were so hostile to the single person now in their power, should converse without the least offensive action; but most, if not all, of the doings of the men concerned in the late troubles in that section were in hot blood, and would not have occurred had time been taken for thought and consideration.
Inman and his brother rustlers wheeled about and rode off in the direction whence they came. Their movements indicated that they had no intention of following Sterry, since the course taken by him was almost directly the opposite; but Whitney was not fully satisfied. He remained in front of his home, listening in the stillness of the night to the sounds made by the hoofs of the galloping horses.
Gradually they grew fainter, until, had there been any air stirring, or had the tension of hearing been less, he would have heard nothing; but, when the noises were hovering close to inaudibility, they continued thus. They neither increased nor diminished, but remaining the same, steadily shifted the direction whence they came.
Instead of keeping to the westward, as they had been for a long time, they worked around to the north and east. Then the decrease in distinctness of sound was so rapid that it was quickly lost.
The truth was evident: the rustlers had started in pursuit of Sterry, though why they should have taken so much pains to conceal the fact from Fred Whitney was more than he could understand.
"They may overtake him," thought the young man as he turned to enter the house, "but it will not be right away."
A light foot-fall sounded in the darkness of the room.
"Is that you, Jennie?" he asked in a guarded undertone.
"Yes, brother; have they gone?"