“How can you be sure it is The Swallow?” demanded Robert.
“Deerfoot said it was.”
“Perhaps he was mistaken.”
“No mistaken,” exclaimed Deerfoot. “That Swallow, sure.”
“I hope so,” said Joseph fervently. “I’m in for it if there has been any mistake.”
They had now come within a short distance of the spot where the horses had been fastened. Joseph at once turned to face the crowd following him. Many more had collected by this time so that more than a hundred men were gathered together to see the result of the argument. Most of them favored Walt, if only for the reason that they had fled as eagerly as he and they had no desire to be publicly acclaimed as cowards.
“Wait here a moment,” exclaimed Joseph. “I’ll go get The Swallow, and ride him out here for you to see.”
“We can’t wait more than two days,” called Walt as Joseph made off. The crowd laughed at this remark, for Walt was considered a great wit.
“You didn’t wait very long for Black Hawk to arrive the other day, either, did you, Walt?” shouted Robert, incensed at the treatment to which his brother was being subjected. The crowd also laughed at this and Walt’s face once more flushed with rage.
“Did you wait yourself?” he cried angrily.