“I don’t want to frighten you,” I said, “but I think that we had better saddle up and get on.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I believe that villain of a Khan has doctored our horses.”
“What for? To make them go lame?”
“No, Leo, to make them leave a strong scent upon dry ground.”
He turned pale. “Do you mean—those hounds?”
I nodded. Then wasting no more time in words, we saddled up in frantic haste. Just as I fastened the last strap of my saddle I thought that a faint sound reached my ear.
“Listen,” I said. Again it came, and now there was no doubt about it. It was the sound of baying dogs.
“By heaven! the death-hounds,” said Leo.
“Yes,” I answered quietly enough, for at this crisis my nerves hardened and all fear left me, “our friend the Khan is out a-hunting. That is why he laughed.”