The oncoming horseman was less than 400 yards away when Slim recognized the horse.
“He’s riding Lightning!” he cried. “Chuck do you hear? That’s Lightning coming up the trail!”
“Sure I hear and unless you pipe down that rider will hear you and then Lightning may be forced to go the other way in a hurry.”
Slim, who had stood up in his moment of wild elation, crouched down behind the tree trunk and cradled the butt of his rifle against his cheek. The lines of his jaw snapped into straight, tense lines and his finger crooked around the trigger. A little further and the unknown rider of Lightning would be out of the angle of the Sun’s protecting rays.
Chapter Six
Lightning Returns
Slim waited impatiently as the rider on Lightning pressed on up the valley toward them. At three hundred yards his finger pressed gently on the trigger of his Winchester.
“Better wait a bit longer,” counseled Chuck. “You might miss at this range.”
Slim snorted. “I’ve got him lined between my sights right now. That guy is one horse thief that isn’t going to get away.”
But Slim took Chuck’s advice and the tension of his finger on the trigger lessened. The target loomed larger, for the man riding Lightning was heavy and of large stature.
Rider and horse drew nearer, the second horse trailing Lightning by a few feet. It was then that Slim noticed that the rifle of the rider on Lightning was in the scabbard on the saddle of the second horse. If he shot now, it would be at a man armed at the most with only a six shooter and one unable to answer him on even terms. Slim knew that the horse thief didn’t deserve such consideration, but in spite of his rage at losing Lightning he couldn’t bring himself to shoot a man in cold blood.