A light flickered in the bank; half a dozen men spilled out of the back door, cursing and shouting.
"Walk your horse," said Terry. "Walk it—you fool!"
Denver had let his horse break into a trot. He drew it back to a walk at this hushed command.
"They won't see us unless we start at a hard gallop," continued Terry. "They won't watch for slowly moving objects now. Besides, it'll be ten minutes before the sheriff has a posse organized. And that's the only thing we have to fear."
CHAPTER 36
They drifted past the town, quickening to a soft trot after a moment, and then to a faster trot—El Sangre was gliding along at a steady pace.
"Not back to the house!" said Denver with an oath, when they straightened back to the house of Pollard. "That's the first place McGuire will look, after what you said to him the other night."
"That's where I want him to look," answered Terry, "and that's where he'll find me. Pollard will hide the coin and we'll get one of the boys to take our sweaty horses over the hills. We can tell McGuire that the two horses have been put out to pasture, if he asks. But he mustn't find hot horses in the stable. Certainly McGuire will strike for the house. But what will he find?"
He laughed joyously.
Suddenly the voice of Denver cut in softly, insinuatingly.