"She took us to be from McLean's gang, slick as grease.

Make the chips fly!" So all of them attacked the big tree.
Freckles sat on one of his benches and waited.

In their haste to fell the tree and load it, so that the teamsters could start, and leave them free to attack another, they had forgotten to rebind him.
The Angel was on the trail and safely started.

The cold perspiration made Freckles' temples clammy and ran in little streams down his chest.
It would take her more time to follow the trail, but her safety was Freckles' sole thought in urging her to go that way.

He tried to figure on how long it would require to walk to the carriage.