Clark fairly turned his pony round. He was too much of a coward even to dare to ask the question that forced itself to his lips. No such qualms assailed Bill Bender, however. He pressed spurs to his pony, and in a second flashed round the trees that hid what lay on the trail beyond. A second later a loud cry of astonishment broke from his lips. It was mingled with curses.
"What's the matter?" hailed Clark tremblingly.
"Come here."
"Oh, Bill, I don't want to. I——"
"Come here, I say. There's nothing to be afraid of."
Thus urged, Clark, whose cheeks were still ashen under the bronze, urged his pony forward, and presently joined Bill. The latter had dismounted, and was standing over a dark, still object in the road.
It was the pony Rob had borrowed so hurriedly.
It lay stone dead, pierced in a vital spot by Bill Bender's bullet.
"But the b-b-boy, is he——" stuttered Clark.
"He's gone!" exclaimed Bill.