“Now yore talkin’ sense! Say, how many of yore crowd is ridin’ tonight?�
“Seven.�
“Seven, hey! I reckon you’d better come with me. It’ll be morning soon; then you can ride back. If I turn you loose now, yore liable to get to the rest. Not that I’ve got anything to be afraid of!� the man added quickly. “But that brother of yours is hot-headed, and I wouldn’t put it past him to take a pot shot at me fer what I done to Flash. So come along.�
“Where?�
“See that clump of quakermasts over yonder? Head fer them.�
Against his will, Roy was forced to ride forward, while Froud trailed him closely, gun still in readiness. A faint glimmer of gray appeared in the east, betokening the coming dawn.
Froud knew he must put much territory between him and his pursuers before daylight, so he urged the horses on to a faster gait. Roy rode silently, hoping that his chance might come before he got too far away from the others to give the alarm. But as the two rode along, this hope dwindled, and the boy knew that, even if he did escape, he would not be able to reach the others in time to give chase to Froud.
Angry thoughts were milling in the boy’s mind as they neared the group of quakermasts. Turning his head slightly, Roy saw that they had reached a section of the country known as Harver’s Gully. The light in the east was stronger now, and Roy could make out the Rocky Run River a few miles to the north. Further up the stream was the X Bar X, but if one followed the course of Rocky Run, winding as it did, it would require a ride of some three or four hours to reach the Manley ranch.
Roy knew that a steep hill arose beyond these trees. He wondered if Froud would make for this, but the next moment his captor ordered him to pull his horse up.
“We’re stayin’ here a spell,� Froud said shortly. He rode closer to Roy. “So you think I travel with a man who wears a checkered shirt, hey?�