Suddenly Slim shifted his plans. He knew a bloodless but not altogether painless way to capture the rider. Placing two fingers between his lips, he sent a shrill, penetrating whistle ringing down the valley.
Lightning stopped suddenly, poised like a statue. Again the sharp whistle came from Slim’s lips while Chuck watched in open-mouthed astonishment.
Lightning whirled into action. The big sorrel left the ground in a wild, twisting buck that caught her rider unawares. Lightning almost swapped ends and came down in a rocking, jarring crash that sent the unknown rider sprawling through the air to land with a thud at one side of the trail.
Then the sorrel raced toward Slim, whinnying in sheer delight at discovering her master again.
Chuck ran down the trail to the side of the fallen rider while Slim swung onto Lightning. The sorrel fairly danced with pleasure over the reunion and Slim reached down and stroked the beautiful mane with gentle hands.
“Gosh, Lightning, old girl, it’s good to see you again. Darn me! I thought last night it was all over for us when I heard those bushwhackers riding away. From now on no one rides you but me. Understand?”
Lightning threw up her head in a quick, angry manner that indicated anyone except Slim would have a hard time mounting her.
From down the trail came a sharp cry from Chuck.
“Hey, Slim. Come here and meet your horse thief.”
The Flying Arrow cowboy swung Lightning about and trotted down the trail. Chuck was bending over the fallen man, who was now showing some signs of a returning interest in life.