“Boot and saddle!” instantly rang out at the ranch, and every preparation was made for pursuit, though, mounted as Jake was on the best horse of the troop, they could not hope to overtake him.
Hunky Ben, at his own particular request was permitted to go on in advance.
“You see, sir,” he said to the captain, “my Black Polly an’t quite as good as your charger, but she’s more used to this sort o’ country, an’ I can take the short cuts where your horse could hardly follow.”
“Go, Ben, and good luck go with you! Besides, we can do without you, now that we have Mr Brooke to guide us.”
“Come wi’ me, sir,” said Hunky Ben, as he passed Charlie on his way to the stables. “Don’t you hesitate, Mr Brooke, to guide the captain to the cave of Buck Tom. I’m goin’ on before you to hunt up the reptiles—to try an’ catch Jake the Flint.”
The scout chuckled inwardly as he said this.
“But why go in advance? You can never overtake the scoundrel with such a start and on such a horse.”
“Never you mind what I can or can’t do,” said Ben, entering the stable where the dead trooper still lay, and unfastening Black Polly. “I’ve no time to explain. All I know is that your friend Leather is sure to be hanged if he’s cotched, an’ I’m sure he’s an innocent man—therefore, I’m goin’ to save him. It’s best for you to know nothin’ more than that, for I see you’re not used to tellin’ lies. Can you trust me?”
“Certainly I can. The look of your face, Ben, even more than the character you bear, would induce me to trust you.”
“Well then, Mr Brooke, the first sign o’ trust is to obey orders without askin’ questions.”