“What’s that?” cried Ted Hoyt, stopping in his stride.,
Feather-in-the-Wind only grunted and led the way swiftly towards the place where he had come on the Mexican bandits. The dark seemed to bother him little, if at all, for he walked with long strides, missing obstructions as if by intuition. The boys had difficulty in keeping up with him and it was a relief to them when he finally slowed down and stopped. Telling them by gestures to use the greatest caution against making a noise, on he went, the boys following.,
“Mr. Whitney told me something about it and the reason I’m late to-day is that I got mixed up in the mess—”.
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