“That’s true, of course.” They were silent again.
... “What’s that!” said Scribner. Both dropped their feet and sat up.
“Horse,” said Young Van.
“Devil of a way off.”
“Must be. Lost it now.”
“No—there it is again. Now, what do you suppose?”
“Don’t know. Let’s step out and look around.”
Standing on the sloping ground in front of the tent, they could at first distinguish nothing.
“Gives you a queer feeling,” said Scribner, “horse galloping—this time of night—”
”—just now,” Young Van completed, “when things are going on.”