They saw Barry bend low; they saw the stallion increase its pace.
"By God," shouted Retherton in involuntary admonition, "I'd rather have that hoss than the ten thousand.

But feed 'em the spurs, boys, and he'll come back to us inside a mile." And Retherton was right.

Before that mile was over the black slipped back inch by inch, until at length Retherton called: "Now grab your guns boys and see if you can salt him down with lead.

Give your hosses their heads and turn loose!" They pulled their guns to their shoulders and sent a volley at the outlaw.

One bullet clipped a spark from the rocks just behind the stallion's feet; the other two must have gone wide.