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Updated: June 12, 2025
Again he brought his whip down upon his horses. He must get through now. He must get to the cache with the liquor, and trust to the luck of the reckless to get away. Further concealment was out of the question. Hark, what was that? Horsemen coming his way. Yes horsemen. There could be no doubt of it. The racing hoof-beats were unmistakable.
The cadence of the hoof-beats ended suddenly, and silence ensued for a time; then as suddenly, quick footsteps, accompanied by a tell-tale jingle and clank, came striding along the path from the kitchen to the port in the hedge.
My attempt at approaching the window was instantly checked by a threatening gesture, and I sat down in the reading chair to await developments. They could not muffle my ears, however, and I heard the swift hoof-beats of an approaching horse being ridden furiously up the gravel driveway. At the door he was hastily checked, and a voice spoke peremptorily: "Here you, take the rein!"
Once more I summoned all my power, recalled the twist Astley had spoken of, and tried it. I bent his neck for an inch of rein. Next I got another inch, and then came a taste the smallest taste of mastery like elixir. The motion changed with it, became rougher, and the hoof-beats a fraction less frequent. He steered like a ship with sail reduced.
But the horse's hoof-beats never checked for a single instant. "Halt, you! Who comes there?" "Friend!" came the answer, in an accent that was unmistakable. "What friend? Where are you going?" One of the advance-guard reined his horse across the road. The others followed suit and blocked the way effectually. "Halt!" they roared in unison. The main body of the advance came up with them.
Leaping into the saddle, the boy drove his spurs into the animal's flanks, and was off at a furious run in the direction of Whipple. Startled by the hoof-beats, the Apaches looked back, and began running diagonally across the field to try to intercept the boy before he turned into the direct trail.
Sanford came home a day earlier than he had planned, and drove in a borrowed cart from the station, furious when an old cottage blazed in the rainy night, just below the white posts marking his heritage, and shrill women screamed invitation at the horse's hoof-beats. He felt the valley smirched, and his father's worn face angered him when they met. "I almost wish you'd not come, Sonny.
In some places this would only be a walk, for the road was treacherous and difficult. In other places along a comparatively level slope, or down grade, Sunger would make up for lost time. As Jack made a turn in the road, he saw, riding ahead of him, two men on horseback. They turned in their saddles at the sound of his steed's hoof-beats, and Jack recognized one of the men as Jake Tantrell.
They'll stop you, and I only hope they'll get as much out of you as I have." Prescott gladly obeyed the command and the Northern horsemen galloped off, their hoof-beats making little noise in the snow. But as he drove on he turned his head slightly and watched them until they were out of sight. When he was sure they were far away he stopped his own horses.
Then Bartley heard the sound of hoof-beats and somehow or other, Dorothy was helping him to his feet. He tried to grin but his lips would not obey his will. "I'm all right," he mumbled. "Perhaps," said Dorothy, steady and cool. "But you'll want to wash your face at the spring. I fetched your horse." "Lord, Miss Gray, let's walk. I'm more used to it."
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