The men mounted their horses, Gil Mead at the head, and set off across
the fields at a mad gallop. They must save the stack. They left Jack,
bound hand and foot, and guarded by one man.
Shep, the wonderful dog, had kept by us until now, slinking in the dark
shadows. Now, gliding sidewise and still, he reached the man on guard
whose back was to us, and with no warning growl caught him by the throat
with strong white teeth that could choak a coyote in a second. The man,
who was in a sitting posture, fell back with a groan. Ted struck him
over the head with the butt of the revolver, and pulled off the dog. I
cut Jack's bonds with a knife. He looked at us wonderingly and staggered
to his feet.
"Never mind how we came, Jack," I said; "quick, mount the horse beyond
the bridge, and ride to Denver for your life. They will not harm a woman
and child."
"Harry White," he muttered, the loyal soul that even now could think of
another's danger.
"I will tell him."
"No, no; not of this--only say, if he stole the cattle, to fly the
country. They will find out, sooner or later."
He galloped down the road.
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