A rising wind brought about him something like an echo of the sound, but otherwise there was no answer.
"She ain't heard," muttered Dan to Bart, who came running back at the call, so familiar to him and to the horse.

He whistled again, prolonging the call until it soared and trembled down the gulch, and this time when he stopped he sat for a long moment, waiting, until Black Bart whined at his side.
"She ain't learned to sleep light, yet," muttered Barry.

"An' I s'pose she's plumb tired out waitin' for me.

But if something's happened--Satan!" That word sent the stallion leaping ahead at a racing gait, swerving among rocks which he could not see.
"They's nothin' wrong with her," whispered Barry to himself.

"They can't be nothin' happened to her!" He was in the cave, a moment later, standing in the center of the place with the torch high above his head; it flared and glimmered in the great eyes of Satan and the narrow eyes of Bart.