"And by God, there he comes to report!" For Black Bart had whirled and raced straight back for Dan.

There was no need of howl or whine to give the reason of his coming; the speed of his running meant business, and Barry shortened the pace of Satan while he looked over the hills, incredulous, despairing.
It could not be that men lurked there to cut him off.

No living thing could have raced from Rickett to Caswell City to warn them of his coming.

Nevertheless, there came Bart with the ill tidings, and it only remained to skirt swiftly east, round the dangerous ground, and strike the marshes first.

He swung Satan around on the new course with a pressure of his knees and loosed him into a freer gallop.
They must have sensed the meaning of this maneuver at once, for hardly had he stretched out east when voices shouted out of the hills, and around and over several low knolls came forty horsemen, racing.