A rising
wind brought about him something like an echo of the sound, but otherwise
there was no answer.
"She ain't heard," muttered Dan to Bart, who came running back at the call,
so familiar to him and to the horse. He whistled again, prolonging the call
until it soared and trembled down the gulch, and this time when he stopped
he sat for a long moment, waiting, until Black Bart whined at his side.
"She ain't learned to sleep light, yet," muttered Barry. "An' I s'pose
she's plumb tired out waitin' for me. But if something's happened--Satan!"
That word sent the stallion leaping ahead at a racing gait, swerving among
rocks which he could not see.
"They's nothin' wrong with her," whispered Barry to himself. "They can't be
nothin' happened to her!"
He was in the cave, a moment later, standing in the center of the place
with the torch high above his head; it flared and glimmered in the great
eyes of Satan and the narrow eyes of Bart. At length he slipped down to a
rock beside him while the torch, fallen from his hand, sputtered and
whispered where it lay on the gravel.
Pages:
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346