Zeb Stump on the Trail.
After getting clear of the enclosures of Casa del Corvo, the hunter headed his animal up stream—in the direction of the Port and town.
It was the former he intended to reach—which he did in a ride of less than a quarter of an hour.
Commonly it took him three to accomplish this distance; but on this occasion he was in an unusual state of excitement, and he made speed to correspond. The old mare could go fast enough when required—that is when Zeb required her and he had a mode of quickening her speed—known only to himself, and only employed upon extraordinary occasions. It simply consisted in drawing the bowie knife from his belt, and inserting about in inch of its blade into the mare’s hip, close to the termination of the spine.
The effect was like magic; or, if you prefer the figure—electricity. So spurred, Zeb’s “critter” could accomplish a mile in three minutes; and more than once had she been called upon to show this capability, when her owner was chased by Comanches.
On the present occasion there was no necessity for such excessive speed; and the Fort was reached after fifteen minutes’ sharp trotting.
On reaching it, Zeb slipped out of the saddle, and made his way to the quarters of the commandant; while the mare was left panting upon the parade ground.
The old hunter had no difficulty in obtaining an interview with the military chief of Fort Inge. Looked upon by the officers as a sort of privileged character, he had the entrée at all times, and could go in without countersign, or any of the other formalities usually demanded from a stranger. The sentry passed him, as a matter of course—the officer of the guard only exchanged with him a word of welcome; and the adjutant at once announced his name to the major commanding the cantonment.
From his first words, the latter appeared to have been expecting him.
“Ah! Mr Stump! Glad to see you so soon. Have you made any discovery in this queer affair? From your quick return, I can almost say you have. Something, I hope, in favour of this unfortunate young fellow. Notwithstanding that appearances are strongly against him, I still adhere to my old opinion—that he’s innocent. What have you learnt?”