Julian rolled off his horse rather than dismounted, and the hostler, after closing and fastening the door, held up his lantern and peered sharply into his face.
“Why, boy!” he exclaimed in great amazement.
“It is all up with me now,” thought Julian. “I am discovered at last.”
“Well, sir!” continued the man, after a pause. “I have seen something to-night I never expected to see in my life—White-horse Fred frightened.”
“I guess you would be frightened if you were in my place,” returned Julian, greatly relieved.
“The soldiers haven’t been after you, have they?”
The boy replied in the negative.
“Oh, it’s the storm, then. It’s awful, that’s a fact. I never heard such thunder or such a roaring of wind. You got here just in time, didn’t you? Listen to that rain. The water in the gullies will be breast high to a horse in five minutes. Where did this fellow come from?” asked the hostler, leading the bay into one of the stalls.
“From Fort Stoughton. He was stolen from the major.”