Zmai and
Chauvenet flashed into view suddenly, and close behind them, Oscar,
yelling like mad. He drove his horse between the two men, threw himself
flat as Zmai fired at him, and turned and waved his hat and laughed at
them; then, just before his horse reached Claiborne and Armitage, he
checked its speed abruptly, flung it about and then charged back, still
yelling, upon the amazed foe.
"He's crazy--he's gone clean out of his head!" muttered Claiborne,
restraining his horse with difficulty. "What do you make of it?"
"He's having fun with them. He's just rattling them to warm himself
up--the little beggar. I didn't know it was in him."
Back went Oscar toward the two horsemen he had passed less than a minute
before, still yelling, and this time he discharged his revolver with
seeming unconcern, for the value of ammunition, and as he again dashed
between them, and back through the gray curtain, Armitage gave the word,
and he and Claiborne swept on at a gallop.
Durand was out of sight, and Chauvenet turned and looked behind him
uneasily; then he spoke sharply to Zmai. Oscar's wild ride back and forth
had demoralized the horses, which were snorting and plunging wildly.
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