“What’s this?” Myra asked, looking over her shoulder at the dark group of horsemen. “A rodeo?”
I sat up in alarm. One of the horsemen was immensely tall and fat. That was enough for me.
“Quick, Doc,” I said. “Get inside and phone for the Federal troops. These guys are bandits.”
Ansell stiffened in alarm. “What do you mean?” he asked, sitting like a paralysed rabbit.
“Okay, okay, stay where you are. They’ve seen us.”
Myra looked at me blankly. “What are you talking about?”
“Hornets, my pet,” I said grimly, and she caught her breath in a little gasp.
From the group of sixteen men, three detached themselves and walked towards the verandah steps. The others remained with the horses, watching. One of the three men was immensely fat and tall. He walked just ahead of the other two. He came up the verandah steps that creaked under his weight.
It was the fat party we had met on the mountain road and he had a mean look on his dark greasy face as he stood under the lamp, looking at us. Particularly he looked at Myra. Then he took out a pale silk handkerchief and blew his nose. While he was doing this, his eyes remained on Myra’s face.
Myra eyed him up and down. She was in no way disturbed to meet him again.