his horse. It was not a shying start, but a
stiffening of attitude, a leap out of laxity into alertness, with a
lifting of the head, a fixing of the ears as if on some object ahead,
of which it was at once curious and afraid.
Lambert was all tension in a breath. Ahead a little way the road
branched at the point of the hill leading to the Philbrook house. His
road lay to the right of the jutting plowshare of hill which seemed
shaped for the mere purpose of splitting the highway. The other branch
led to Kerr's ranch, and beyond. The horse was plainly scenting
something in this latter branch of the road, still hidden by the bushes
which grew as tall there as the head of a man on horseback.
As the horse trotted on, Lambert made out something lying in the road
which looked, at that distance, like the body of a man. Closer approach
proved this to be the case, indeed. Whether the man was alive or dead,
it was impossible to determine from the saddle, but he lay in a huddled
heap as if he had been thrown from a horse, his hat in the road some
feet beyond.
Whetstone would not approach nearer than ten or twelve feet. There he
stood, swelling his sides with long-drawn breaths, snorting his
warning, it seemed, expressing his suspicion in the best manner that he
could command. Lambert spoke to him, but could not quiet his fear. He
could feel the sensitive creature tremble under him, and took it as
certain that the man must be dead.
Dismounting, he led the horse and bent over the man in the road. He
could see the fellow's shoulder move as he breathed, and straightened up
with a creeping of apprehension that this might be a trap to draw him
into just such a situation as he found himself that moment. The
nervousness of his horse rather increased than quieted, also, adding
color to his fear.
His foot was in the stirrup when a quick rush sounded behind him. He saw
the man on the ground spring to his feet, and quick on the consciousness
of that fact there came a blow that stretched him as stiff as a dead
man.
Lambert came to himself with a half-drowned sense of suffocation. Water
was falling on his head, pouring over his face, and there was the
confused sound of human voices around him. As he cleared he realized
that somebody was standing over him, pouring water on his head. He
struggled to get from under the drowning stream. A man laughed, shook
him, cursed him vilely close to his ear.
"Wake up, little feller, somebody's
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