"An' what in the name of Sam Hill are they hard-riding for if it ain't for us ?" But my father had already noted the condition of the two animals, and my eager eyes had seen him.

And I had seen his eyes flash, his lips tighten, and haggard lines form for a moment on his dusty face.

That was all.

But I put two and two together, and knew that the two tired saddle- horses were just one more added touch of ominousness to the situation.
"I guess they're keeping an eye on us, Laban," was my father's sole comment.
It was at Fillmore that I saw a man that I was to see again.

He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, well on in middle age, with all the evidence of good health and immense strength--strength not alone of body but of will.