A moment
later, as the two riders moved forward at a walk, a sharp volley rang out
quite clearly and they heard shouts and the crack of revolvers again.
"By George! They're coming--here we go!"
They put their horses to the gallop and rode swiftly through the fog. The
beat of hoofs was now perfectly audible ahead of them, and they heard,
quite distinctly, a single revolver snap twice.
"Oscar has them on the run--bully for Oscar! They're getting close--thank
the Lord for this level stretch--now howl and let 'er go!"
They went forward with a yell that broke weirdly and chokingly on the
gray cloak of fog, their horses' hoofs pounding dully on the earthen
road. The rain had almost ceased, but enough had fallen to soften the
ground.
"They're terribly brave or horribly seared, from their speed," shouted
Claiborne. "Now for it!"
They rose in their stirrups and charged, yelling lustily, riding neck and
neck toward the unseen foe, and with their horses at their highest pace
they broke upon the mounted trio that now rode upon them grayly out of
the mist.
There was a mad snorting and shrinking of horses.
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