He was close enough--almost too close. But as he crouched in
dark shade and there were no horses near, he did not fear discovery.
When he peered out from his covert the first thing to strike and hold his
rapid glance was the slight figure of a girl. Slone stifled a gasp in his
throat. He thought he recognized Lucy. Stunned, he crouched down again with
his hands clenched round his rifle. And there he remained for a long moment of
agony before reason asserted itself over emotion. Had he really seen Lucy? He
had heard of a girl now and then in the camps of these men, especially Cordts.
Maybe Creech had fallen in with comrades. No, he could not have had any
comrades there but horse-thieves, and Creech was above that. If Creech was
there he had been held up by Cordts; if Lucy only was with the gang, Creech
had been killed.
Slone had to force himself to look again. The girl had changed her position.
But the light shone upon the men. Creech was not one of the three, nor Cordts,
nor any man Slone had seen before. They were not honest men, judging from
their hard, evil looks.
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