SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 162 | Next

Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"Raw Gold A Novel"

"Ah, there
they go."
A squad of mounted men in close formation, so that their scarlet jackets
stood out against the dun prairie like a flame in the dark, rode away
from the camp, halted on the first hill an instant, then scattered
north, south, and west. After that there was no visible stir around the
white-sheeted commissary.
"They're not apt to disturb us if they keep going the opposite
direction," Mac reflected, his eyes conning them through the glasses.
"And neither do they appear to be going to move camp. Therefore, we'll
be likely to see Piegan before long."
But it was some time ere we laid eyes on that gentleman. We didn't see
him leaving the camp--which occasioned us no uneasiness, because a lone
rider could very well get away from there unseen by us, especially if he
was circumspect in his choice of routes, as Piegan would probably be.
Only when two hours had dragged by, and then two more, did we begin to
get anxious. I was lying on my back, staring up at the sky, all sorts
of possible misfortune looming large on my mental horizon, when MacRae,
sweeping the hills with the glasses, grunted satisfaction, and I turned
my head in time to see Piegan appear momentarily on high ground a mile
to the south of us.
"What's he doing off there?" I wondered.


Pages:
150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174