“I got er whiff o’ smoke. Mebby it’s the makin’s o’ a forest fire, an’ mebby ’tain’t. We’ll leave the ponies heah an’ go on afoot. Ye better wait an’ tell ’em so they don’t blunder on an’ spoil the game.”
The “game”! What a game it was, a game of life and death, thought Lieutenant Hippy Wingate, as he tethered the mustangs at one side of the trail and sat down to rest and wait.
It was about this time that Stacy Brown was taking his departure from the cabin of the mountain ruffians, not dreaming that a friend was so near at hand. In the meantime Sam had begun moving forward slowly, making scarcely a sound, so light were his footsteps, the right hand nervously twitching over the protruding butt of his revolver.
The guide brought up sharply with his whiskers standing out at an angle, and listened attentively. He had heard a human laugh, and Sam knew quite well that it could not be behind him, for his companions were not in a laughing mood that evening. He picked his way forward a little farther and again halted and listened.
A shout startled him and his muscles tensed. It was a shout of anger, at first sounding as though from a distance, then all at once near at hand. Stacy Brown’s escape had been discovered, and the mountain ruffians were running about in search of him, but by this time the boy was some distance away. When it was discovered that one of the ponies was missing the rage of the rustlers knew no restraint, and each was seeking for an excuse to place the responsibility on his companions.
“Somethin’ goin’ on over thar, but I’m dad-busted if I knows what it’s all ’bout,” muttered Sam.
Two shots rang out almost as one, and the old gunman knew what that meant. Two rustlers had fired, but one had been a fraction of a second quicker than the other, and one probably was out of the fight, for there were no more shots, and the voices of the rustlers became more subdued.
Sam Conifer moved up a little closer. Lieutenant Wingate, too, had heard the shots and was growing restless, but dared not leave his position until Tom, Two-Gun and Idaho came up.
By this time Conifer had discovered the cabin. Fortunately for his purposes, all the rustlers were now in the cabin excitedly discussing the escape of their prisoner, and considering what they had better do. It was the opinion of the wiser ones that Brown never would be able to find the place again, which was probably true, and that the other prisoner was still in their possession. It was decided, therefore, to keep a sharp lookout and collect all the money from the Overlanders that they possibly could, then dispose of the man they still held. It would not do to let that man get away.
As it developed later the two rustlers who had shot at each other had missed, whereupon their companions intervened and peace was restored, as Sam Conifer learned a few moments later from such snatches of conversation as he could catch.