Great Heavens, listen to that!" He shuddered, and Philip shuddered, at the wailing sound of grief and pain that came up to them.
"It'll be a loss of time--to go down," repeated the agent.
"Yes, it would be a loss of time," agreed Philip.
His blood was burning at fever heat when he raised his eyes from the scene below to Billinger's face.

Every fighting fiber in his body was tingling for action, and at the responsive glare which he met in Billinger's eyes he thrust his hand half over the space that separated them.
"We'll get 'em, Billinger," he cried.

"By God, we'll get 'em!" There was something ferocious in the crush of the other's hand.

The Englishman's teeth gleamed for an instant between his seared mustaches as he heeled his mount into a canter along the back of the ridge.

Five minutes later the knoll dipped again into the plain and at the foot of it Billinger stopped his horse for a second and pointed to fresh hoof-marks in the prairie sod.