“Good-night. Follow if you want to, but I hold court in the saddle as often as anywhere. Come, Myra, we must go.”
The boy’s last words were addressed to the white face, into which he threw a hasty glance.
At the same moment the two horses started forward; their speed soon appeared to rival the flight of an arrow.
Tom did not follow. Bewildered and amazed, he sat still and looked down the canyon.
He was surrounded by the Indians who had urged their horses from the shadows. They were congratulating him on his return; but he did not seem to hear.
“Thar’s grit an’ death in thet boy,” he muttered. “He’s the one I’m after. I can’t be mistaken, but I didn’t expect to find ’im sech a match for me. His card? Ah, yes, let me see. What does the little gopher cull himself, anyhow?—
“JUDGE LYNCH, JR.
“Court always in Session! Villains executed with neatness and dispatch!
“Hanging cheerfully attended to at all hours!”
Tom looked up at the expectant Indians, and gave a long whistle of wonderment.