He's in front." "He's forgot his toothbrush, Bill, and he's going back in a hurry to get it." "If I had a horse like that I'd ride him in the right direction." "Tell 'em in Winchester that the foot cavalry are marchin' a hundred miles an hour." Harry did not resent these comments.

He merely flung back an occasional comment of his own and hurried on until he reached the rear.

Then in the dusk of the road he found four or five men limping along, and ready when convenient to drop away in the darkness.

Harry wasted no time.

The fire in his blood that had come from Jackson was still burning.