There still was no movement about the place, and the bandit, crouching low, roped a fine, rangy thorough-bred and led it out through the rear of the corral where saddles and bridles were hanging in a row on the fence.
"This is like gittin' money from home," muttered Bill as he saddled and bridled the supple-limbed animal.
All being in readiness, the hardy desperado swung himself into the saddle. But instead of adopting the safer course and cutting into the forest at his right, Bill dug the rowels of his spurs into the sleek sides of his mount, and with a wild whoop dashed straight across the clearing to where his companions were waiting with guns trained on the cabin.
To their surprise and mystification, however, not a word nor protest was raised from the mysterious cabin.
"Well, I'll be—" began Bill, pulling up and surveying the clearing in perplexity.
"Try it again," suggested Frank.
"We have got a good horse, anyhow. Go back the way you went before, don't hurry. If they see the performance is not to be repeated they will turn their attention this way."
The desperado's plans had been laid with savage cunning, but the fruition of them seemed as far away as when they began.
Again had the clever outlaw reached the corral without being detected. And as before, he made a choice of the best animal in it, which he quickly roped, led out and mounted. But before setting out on his journey to the other side of the clearing, he drew one of his trusty "Colts," grasped the reins firmly and dug in the spurs.
This time, however, the outlaw rough rider adopted a different plan acting on his own initiative. He drove the animal first straight over the course previously followed, but when almost opposite the cabin, suddenly whirled toward it, passing within a rod of it at express train speed.