"With thet dog Jean Isbel could trail a grasshopper." "The hell y'u say!" muttered Colter.

Manifestly such a possibility put a different light upon the present situation.

The men grew silent and watchful, occupied by brooding thoughts and vigilant surveillance of all points.

Somers slipped off into the brush, soon to return, with intent look of importance.
"I heerd somethin'," he whispered, jerking his thumb backward.

"Rollin' gravel--crackin' of twigs.