“I reckon,” he said slowly, “the storm’s about over. It didn’t last long. Nope, not long.”
He walked toward the canvas that sheltered their supplies. As he bent down to examine the covering, Teddy heard him mutter:
“Not long! Not half long enough!”
CHAPTER XVI
His Night to Howl
If there was doubt in the listeners’ minds concerning the meaning of Silent’s remark, there was also doubt in the mind of the one who had uttered it. Actually, it meant nothing more than that the man was in the grip of a strong emotion and his tongue seized upon the phrase it had last spoken. For in those two horsemen, the two riders who had appeared like specters out of the night, Silent Neville had recognized the slayers of his father and brother.
Gradually the rain decreased, finally it ceased altogether. The fire was relit. Blankets were hung near it to dry. The animals were looked to. A pot of coffee was put on to boil.
Teddy walked to where Silent stood, staring into the flames. All around them they could hear the drip, drip of the water from the trees. Every now and again a distant roll of thunder, echoes of the departing storm, came to their ears.
“Forget it, Silent,” Teddy said in a low voice. “It’s all over. You’ll get your chance again.”
“Never like that, I won’t,” Silent responded dully, shaking his head. “Right there they stood, an’ me with my hand on my gun. Right there.”
“It happened too fast,” Teddy declared. “None of us had time to do a thing. Besides—” he stopped, then went on: “Funny, but I seem to have seen those two waddies before. Roy!”