We'd better make fur our horses an' then clear out.

We kin tell 'bout what we've seen an' done when we're two or three miles away." They found the horses safe in the brushwood, Old Jack welcoming Ned with a soft whinny.

They were in the saddle at once, rode swiftly northward, and none of them spoke for a half hour.

When a faint tinge of gray appeared on the eastern rim of the world the Panther said: "My tale's short.

I couldn't get into the camp, 'cause I'm too big.