The veins of his lean, brown neck stood out like whipcords.

Two comrades were stalking beside him.

Ellen heard their stealthy steps, and she felt Colter sheer from one side or the other.
They were proceeding cautiously, fearful of the rear, but not wholly trusting to the fore.
"Reckon we'd better go slow an' look before we leap," said one whose voice Ellen recognized as Springer's.
"Shore.

That open slope ain't to my likin', with our Nez Perce friend prowlin' round," drawled Colter, as he set Ellen down on her feet.
Another of the rustlers laughed.

"Say, can't he twinkle through the forest?
I had four shots at him.