The two cowboys turned quickly, expecting to encounter a man, but instead saw only a tall, gaunt woman in a white night-dress, with her long, disheveled hair hanging down her back.
“Go back to bed, you old witch!” shouted the thief contemptuously.
If he had known Mrs. Peters better he would have hesitated before speaking in this strain, and above all he would have felt it prudent to get out of the way.
She took no time to parley, but raising a rifle which she carried at her side, aimed at the foremost ruffian, and an instant later a sharp pain in his shoulder told him he had been hit. With an imprecation he dropped to the ground, and his companion, striking Gerald’s horse sharply, prepared to seek safety in flight, leaving his companion to his fate. But Mrs. Peters was ready for him, too. A second shot struck him in the leg, and he slid off the horse.
By this time Peters and his two boys showed themselves, roused by the sound of firing.
“What’s up?” asked the old man.
“Two hoss thieves are down!” answered Mrs. Peters.
“Hoss thieves?”
“Yes; they was makin’ off with the strangers’ hosses. I’ve given ’em a hint not to come round here agin.”