Far away toward the northern extremity a dull red glow
indicated the presence of a small fire.
"Herders," Brennan soliloquised, his thought instantly shifting.
"Likely to be two, maybe three ov 'em out there; an' then there's them
two on guard at the head o' the trail. I reckon they're wonderin' what
all this yere shootin' means; but 'tain't probable they'll kick up any
fuss yet awhile. We can handle them all right, if they do--hullo,
there! What's comin' now?"
It was the thud of a horse's hoofs being ridden rapidly. Brennan
dropped to the ground, and skurried out of the light. He could
perceive nothing of the approaching rider, but whoever the fellow was
he made no effort at secrecy. He drove his horse down the bank and
into the stream at a gallop, splashed noisily through the water, and
came loping up the nearer incline. Almost in front of the bunk-house
he seemed suddenly struck by the silence and gleam of lights, for he
pulled his pony up with a jerk, and sat there, staring about. To the
marshal, crouching against the earth, his revolver drawn, horse and man
appeared a grotesque shadow.
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