He heard their maledictions and knew that the struggle for life was on.
Comparatively brief as had been the time spent in the West by Sterry, he had not neglected his education along the lines indispensable to those following his manner of living.

At the moment of giving Queenie rein he flung himself forward on her neck, hugging it close and uttering an involuntary prayer that the bullets might pass harmlessly by him and his horse.
There were enough of the missiles to kill several men, but the chance for aiming was so poor that even such fine marksmen as the rustlers had little chance.

The mare was only dimly discernible, and she, like their own horses, was going at full speed.
Had the sun been shining the result must have been widely different.
The encounter with these men was so unexpected and the several changes of direction by Queenie so sudden and unavoidable that Sterry was not given a chance to take his bearings.

The one object was to get as far from them as possible in the quickest time in which it could be done.
When that distance became a safe one it would be soon enough to give attention to the points of the compass.
Nobly did Queenie do her duty.

She had carried her master out of many a peril, and she could be counted on to do it as long as the ability remained with her.