“I’m going to ride on—that’s what!” said Caney. “You can come along or you can go to hell—I don’t care.”
“It’s a cruel world,” said Charlie. “I’ve heard people call you a fool, but I know better, now. Don’t you worry about us not keeping up.”
Caney drove home the spurs and drew ahead.
They galloped into Arrey.
Yes, they had seen a man on a blue horse. “Filled his canteen here. Peart pair!... Which way? Oh, right up the big road to Hillsb’ro—him singin’ and the horse dancin’.... Oh, maybe half an hour ago. He stayed here quite some time—admirin’ the mountains, I judge, and fillin’ his canteen—him and Josie. Better stay to supper, you-all; looks mighty like rain over yonder.”
They turned squarely from the river valley and pushed up the staircase road. The track was clear and plain, three old shoes and a new one. They climbed the first bench-land step, and saw the long gray road blank before them in the last flame-red of sun. Swift dusk dropped like a curtain as they climbed the next step and saw a slow black speck far ahead in the dim loneliness.
“Got him!” said Jody. “Here, one can trail along behind, while two of us take the right and two go on the left, keeping cover in little draws and behind ridges. We’ll have him surrounded before he knows we’re after him. Way he’s riding, we can head him off long before he gets to the Percha.”
“Fine!” said Hobby Lull. “Fine! He rides into an ambush at dark. Guilty—he fights of course. Innocent—of course he fights! Any man with a bone in his spinal column would fight. First-rate scheme, except that Charlie See and me won’t have it. Innocent, it isn’t hospitable; guilty, we won’t have him shot. The man that killed Adam Forbes has got to hang.”