August Naab galloped into the glade, and swung himself out of the saddle. “I heard a shot. What's this? Who's hurt?—Hare! Why—lad—how is it with you?”
“Not bad,” rejoined Hare.
“Let me see,” August thrust Zeke aside. “A bullet-hole—just missed the bone—not serious. Tie it up tight. I'll take him home to-morrow.... Hare, who's been here?”
“Snap rode in and left his respects.”
“Snap! Already? Yet I knew it—I saw it. You had Providence with you, lad, for this wound is not bad. Snap surprised you, then?”
“No. I knew it was coming.”
“Jack hung his belt and gun on Silvermane's saddle,” said Dave. “He didn't feel as if he could draw on either Snap or Holderness—”
“Holderness!”
“Yes. Snap rode in with Holderness. Hare thought if he was unarmed they wouldn't draw. But Snap did.”
“Was he drunk?”