But we'd be strung up anyway, and we can't be hung twice.

Besides there is a chance for us with the ponies, and none at all without.

An hour's start in the saddle, Neb, and this bunch back here will never even find our trail; I pledge you that.

Come, boy, stay close with me." It was the quiet, confident voice of assured command, of one satisfied with his plans, and the obedient negro, breathing hard, never dreamed of opposition; all instincts of slavery held him to the dominion of this white master.

Keith leaned forward, staring at the string of deserted ponies tied to the rail.