“Yes, but I’ll come back and you’ll be the one to git,” the fellow flung at him, turning abruptly on his heel.
“Hol’ on a minute thar!” commanded the guide. “Don’t try to start nothin’ at all heah. These friends of mine an’ these fine young women has seen yer kind before an’ they’d as lief shoot as not. Go back to Hornby, if he sent ye, an’ tell him to come out hisself if he is so tarnation ’fraid we’ll spile this grass. Jest a word more. We’ll watch ye an’ if ye try any tricks we’ll shoot. That’s all I’ve got to say to ye.”
“You’ll hear from me!” shouted the departing caller as he flung himself into his saddle.
“I hear ye now, but yer voice sounds like as if ye was afraid of somethin’,” drawled Sam.
The fellow rode away without another word.
“Follow him, Sam!” urged Grace. “We don’t know but they may rush us, just as the raiders did last night,” warned Grace.
“Leave it to Jim. He’s out thar an’ Jim kin trail a canary bird without the bird ever knowin’ it. Jim’ll give us the word if them fellers try any of their fancy tricks.”
“Oh, Samuel, why didn’t you shoot while you had an excuse for doing so?” begged Emma.
The Overlanders laughed. They knew Emma and they did not take her suggestion seriously.
Half an hour later, during which time the Overland Riders had remained quietly alert, Jim came stalking in, stroking his whiskers.