In a few
moments he might distinguish the sound of voices. If there were two or
three men in the camp he might be able to surprise them and make his
arrest. If the outlaws were many, at least he could lie low near
the camp and perhaps learn the plans of the gang. He worked his way
forward more and more carefully. At one place he thought a shadowy
figure slipped through the brush a short distance away. He poised his
gun, but lowered it again after a moment's thought. It must have
been a stir of shadows. No human being could move so swiftly or so
noiselessly.
Nevertheless the sight gave him such a start that he proceeded with
even greater caution. He was crouched close to the ground. Every inch
of it he scanned carefully before he set down a foot, fearful of the
cracking of a fallen twig. Like most men when they hunt, he began to
feel that something followed him. He tried to argue the thought out of
his brain, but it persisted, and grew stronger. Half a dozen times he
whirled suddenly with his revolver poised. At last he heard a stamp
which could come from nothing but the hoof of a horse. The sound
dispelled his fears. In another moment he would be in sight of the
camp.
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