CHAPTER XXXIV
THE COWARD
Before the coyote cried again, three shadows glided into the night.
The lighted window in the house was like a staring eye that searched
after them, but Satan, with the wolf running before, vanished quickly
among the shadows of the hills. They were glad. They were loosed in
the void of the mountain-desert with no destiny save the will of the
master. They seemed like one being rather than three. The wolf was the
eyes, the horse the strong body to flee or pursue, and the man was the
brain which directed, and the power which struck.
He had formulated no plan of action to free Buck and kill Silent. All
he knew was that he must reach the long riders at once, and he would
learn their whereabouts from Morris. He rode more slowly as he
approached the hotel of the sheriff. Lights burned at the dining-room
windows. Probably the host still sat at table with his guests, but it
was strange that they should linger over their meal so late. He had
hoped that he would be able to come upon Morris by surprise. Now he
must take him in the midst of many men. With Black Bart slinking at
his heels he walked softly across the porch and tiptoed through the
front room.
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