“Yes,” replied Broadwater, “you must have had trouble in catching your horses. I travelled slowly at first, but as you didn’t come up, and I was anxious to get through, I afterwards hurried.”
The coolness of this colloquy betrayed to neither party what was passing in the mind of the other.
The horses were all turned out upon the adjacent hills, and the three men shared alike the hospitality of Contway. But the race was only half finished. Twenty miles of distance intervened between Contway’s and Deer Lodge, and how to pass over it, and escape with life, was the momentous question for Broadwater to solve. As a measurement of wit between himself and the ruffians, it involved consequences too important for any pride in the strife. It was simply a matter of life or death with him, with the added certainty that the smallest mistake in his calculations would end in the latter. He knew that in Contway’s herd was one of the fleetest horses in the Territory. Unobserved by his pursuers, he contrived to inform Contway of his situation, and found him ready to assist in his escape by all means in his power.
“Go and saddle Charley,” said Broadwater, “and bring him up, on the pretence that you are going after your cows. Do it immediately; and after he is hitched, I will ask you, in the presence of these men, for permission to ride him to Deer Lodge. With your assent, reluctantly given, I will mount and ride away, while their horses are grazing on the foothills.”
“Zat is all ver’ goot,” replied Contway. “By Gar, you have got him fixed all right”—and away he went, returning in a quarter of an hour, mounted on a horse of great strength and beauty. Hitching him in front of his lodge, he made the remark that his cows had been missing for a day or two, and he must go in pursuit of them.
“Ho! Contway,” said Broadwater, “that is the very horse I want to complete my trip. My own is broken down, and I will leave him in your care, and return this one to you by the first opportunity.”
“By Gar, I don’t know,” replied Contway: “zat horse is great favorite. I would not have him hurt for anything.”
“But I’ll pay you well,” said Broadwater. “I’m in a great hurry to get home. Let me take him,—that’s a good fellow. If I hurt him, I’ll pay you your own price.”
“You say zat here, before zese men. Zey will remember, and on zose conditions you may take ze horse.”
It was but the work of a moment for Broadwater to change saddles and mount.