alk, listening and peering through
the gloom with all the power at his command. There was no lighting of
the darkness, the wind still blew keenly, and the fine drizzling rain
continued.
No sight nor sound came to him, and, once more bringing his animal to a
halt, he dismounted and pressed his ear to the ground.
This time he caught a distinct noise: it was that made by the hoofs of a
horse. He was walking, and was so near that Thunderbolt pricked his ears
and uttered a faint whinny of salutation. Avon instantly rose to his
feet, and remounted.
Looking keenly into the wet darkness, he became aware that a horse was
standing motionless but a short distance off on his left. In the gloom
the outlines could be traced, but so dimly that he was uncertain whether
he had a rider or not. The steed held his head well up like Thunderbolt,
and appeared to be scrutinizing the youth and his animal with a
curiosity equal to theirs.
There was something so impressive in the sight of the statue-like
object, which emitted not the slightest sound, that young Burnet
hesitated whether to advance or to await its approach. The man could not
be Gleeson, and, whoever he was, it was evident that he regarded Avon
with inquiring suspicion.
But unwilling to maintain the trying situation, the latter touched the
neck of his mustang in a way which the animal recognized as a command to
move forward very slowly. He obeyed, and had advanced but a few short
steps when Avon to his astonishment perceived that the strange horse was
without a rider.
"I don't understand that," mused the mystified young man, stopping his
own animal, with several yards separating them; "he must have an owner,
and what can have become of him, and why is----"
At that instant he observed a suspicious movement, seemingly from the
other side of the steed. Before he could divine its nature, a rifle was
discharged almost in his face and he went off his mustang like a flash.
CHAPTER XXVII.
SHACKAYE, THE COMANCHE.
Avon Burnet was in the act of lifting his Winchester from across the
front of his saddle, when he made the discovery that, although the
strange mustang in front of him bore no rider, yet a man was on the
ground directly beyond and evidently watching every movement made by
himself.
This discovery could mean but one thing: the individual was an enemy,
and was on the point of making a hostile movement against him. He had
undoubtedly dismounted on lear
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