"Well, I'm mighty glad he let it go at that," Bob assured her. "I would have been a baby in his hands."
"I'm not so sure of that," Sue said with an admiring glance at him. "I'll bet you would have kept him busy."
"I'll say he would," Jack assured her. "Bob's some scrapper and knows how to take care of himself when it comes to a rough and tumble."
They waited as the sound of the men's voices grew more and more faint and when they could no longer be heard, Sue proposed that they start.
"I was afraid that they'd come back, but I guess they've really gone," she said.
They made their way slowly back to the trail stopping to listen now and then, but there was no sign of the men and, as soon as they reached the path, they started for home as fast as they dared urge the horses. They had covered about half the distance down the other side of the mountain when Bob, who was in the lead, rounded a huge rock which hid the trail from view, and almost ran into a man, mounted on a roan horse. He was a man well over the average in size and had an abundant crop of long red hair: Red Hains beyond the shadow of a doubt.
Bob looked at the man for a moment too dazed to speak, and the big man returned the scrutiny, a cynical smile parting his lips.
"Wall, do yer see it?" he finally growled.
"I beg your pardon," Bob smiled. "You see, the surprise was so great that I fear I was a bit rude."
"Rude, eh, wall, I should say yer was rude, staring at a man like he was a wild animal. Whar yer goin'?"