d to the night holster, and the
strap that usually passed over the hammer to keep the weapon in place,
had been unbuttoned so that the heavy Colt could be drawn in an instant.
This made Rodney feel rather uneasy. Perhaps he would not have been so
very frightened at the prospect of a fair stand-up fight, but the fear
that somebody might cut loose on him or some member of his party with a
double-barrel shotgun before any of them knew there was danger near, was
more than his nerves could stand. He was glad when they left the woods
behind and rode out into the highway; but it wasn't half an hour before
he had occasion to tell himself that when the Emergency men took leave
of him and turned off toward their own settlement, the woods would be
the safest place for him. They were riding along two abreast, Mr.
Westall and Rodney leading the way, when, as they came suddenly to a
narrow cross-road, they found themselves face to face with a
long-haired, unkempt native mounted on the leanest, hungriest mule
Rodney had ever seen. He rode bare-back, his spine bent almost in the
form of a half circle, his body swaying back and forth, and with every
step his beast took he pounded its sides with the heels of his
boots--not with the object of inducing the mule to quicken its pace, but
because the motion had become a habit with him. He was surprised and
startled when he found himself so close to the Emergency men, and partly
raised the muzzle of the heavy double-barrel shotgun he carried in front
of him; but a second glance seemed to relieve his fears, for he grinned
broadly, and waited for the horsemen to come up.

"Wal, ye got him, didn't ye?" said he; and the words went far to confirm
the fear that had haunted Rodney Gray ever since he found that Tom
Percival had gone off with the roan colt, leaving his own
well-advertised horse behind him. This ignorant backwoodsman, who didn't
look as though he knew enough to go in when it rained, had recognized
the horse the moment he put his eyes on him.

"Oh, this isn't the man at all, Mister--a--I declare I have
disremembered your name," exclaimed Mr. Westall.

"I don't reckon ye ever knowed it, kase I never seed hide nor hair of
none of ye afore this day," replied the native, with another grin. "But
it's Swanson, if it will do ye any good to hear it. I live back here in
the bresh about a couple of milds."

"How does it come that you are so prompt to recognize us if you never
saw us before?" i