but landed in the grasp of another man who ran up as she struck the ground.
"I'll shake you out of your britches, you little hellion, if you try any more breaks like that!" he said. He thrust her back into the corral, his companion opening the gate.
Simpson had lived long enough in the proper sort of company for such an education, to know when it was time for a man without a gun to rush one that had. That hogeyed man at the gate was aching for him to make a jump; that was not the time.
Satisfied there was nobody lurking in the house who might take a shot at them as they rode away, the leader and the man whom he had sent to explore the interior joined the other two at the corral. Their horses stood by, heads down, jaded and dejected, for they had been ridden hard since Simpson's trail had been struck at dawn. Simpson looked for them to demand fresh horses, which they probably would have done if there had been any in sight. But from their eagerness to take the thoroughbred he reasoned they were not far from a refuge among friends.
With a parting caution to the three penned in the corral to stay where they were, the bandits mounted, the long fellow swinging up on Eudora's horse with a malicious grin. They started off, the spare horse running free with them, slamming back a jagged round of shots to give edge to their commands.
But while the long man's leg was in the air swinging over the saddle Eudora was off on a skulking run along the side fence of the corral, making for the long shed
