The Overland party obeyed, but not willingly. They had come out from their hiding place to watch the duel, and preferred not to miss further operations, but Tom was insistent.
It was well past noon when a loud hello brought the girls to their feet. The call was uttered by Hippy.
“I had an awful time getting here without crossing the meadow. I didn’t know what I might run into out there, so I came around through the forest, and it was mighty rough going. Got anything loose around here?” he demanded.
“Saddle rations; that is all,” replied Grace. “Help yourself to whatever you can find.”
“Oh, Hippy, have you seen anything of Hamilton?” begged Emma anxiously.
“Yes. Why?”
“Is—is he all right?”
“He was beating up Hawk Murray with his fists and doing it beautifully, the last I saw of him,” answered Hippy. “Never saw a fellow with a better punch than ‘Hamilton,’ as you call him, has.”
“Hippy, what about the man out there in the meadow?” asked Miss Briggs. “I am going out there. He may not be dead, and it is inhuman to leave him there to suffer, even if he is an enemy. Who is he? Do you know, Hippy?”
“Yes. That fellow is Two-gun Murray, the slickest man with a revolver that ever hunched a shoulder, and you will please stay away from him.”