As
Armitage and Claiborne advanced Chauvenet spoke again to Zmai and drew
his own revolver.
"Oh, for a saber now!" growled Claiborne.
But it was not a moment for speculation or regret. Both sides were
perfectly silent as Claiborne, leading slightly, with Armitage pressing
close at his left, galloped toward the two men who faced them at the gray
wall of mist. They bore to the left with a view of crowding the two
horsemen off the road and into the preserve, and as they neared them they
heard cries through the mist and rapid hoof-beats, and Durand's horse
leaped the ditch at the roadside just before it reached Chauvenet and
Zmai and ran away through the rough underbrush into the wood, Oscar close
behind and silent now, grimly intent on his business.
The revolvers of Zmai and Chauvenet cracked together, and they, too,
turned their horses into the wood, and away they all went, leaving the
road clear.
"My horse got it that time!" shouted Claiborne.
"So did I," replied Armitage; "but never you mind, old man, we've got
them cornered now."
Claiborne glanced at Armitage and saw his right hand, still holding his
revolver, go to his shoulder.
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