He sank down in the gloom, waiting, listening.

Much before he had expected, judging from sound, to his amazement he descried horsemen near at hand.

They were riding along the border of the sage, and instantly he knew the hoofs of the horses were muffled.

Then the pale starlight afforded him indistinct sight of the riders.

But his eyes were keen and used to the dark, and by peering closely he recognized the huge bulk and black-bearded visage of Oldring and the lithe, supple form of the rustler's lieutenant, a masked rider.
They passed on; the darkness swallowed them.