My pack was lying under one of the
pines near the cabin, and examination proved that nothing had been
disturbed. We found the horses grazing up the canyon. Buell had taken the
horse of one of his men, and had left his own superb bay. Most likely he
had jumped astride the first animal he saw. Dick said I could have Buell's
splendid horse. I had some trouble in catching him, as he was restive and
spirited, but I succeeded eventually, and we drove the other horses and
ponies into the glade. My comrades then fell to arguing about what to do
with the prisoners. Dick was for packing them off to Holston. Bent talked
against this, saying it was no easy matter to drive bound men over rough
trails, and Jim sided with him.
Once, while they were talking, I happened to catch Herky-Jerky's eye. He
was lying on his back in the light from the door. Herky winked at me,
screwed up his face in the most astonishing manner, all of which I
presently made out to mean that he wanted to speak to me. So I went over to
him.
"Kid, you ain't a-goin' to fergit I stalled off Buell?" whispered Herky.
"He'd hev done fer you, an' thet's no lie. You won't fergit when we're
rustled down to Holston?"
"I'll remember, Herky," I promised, and I meant to put in a good word for
him. Because, whether or not his reasons had to do with kidnapping and
ransom, he had saved me from terrible violence, perhaps death.
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