Chapter 62

           Never,sinceitserection,wastheresuchatramplingofhoofsaroundthehutofthehorse-catcher—notevenwhenitscorralwasfilledwithfresh-takenmustangs.

           Phelim,rushingoutfromthedoor,issalutedbyascoreofvoicesthatsummonhimtostop.

           Oneisheardlouderthantherest,andintonesofcommandthatproclaimthespeakertobechiefoftheparty.

           "Pullup,damnyou!It’snouse—yourtryingtoescape.Anotherstep,andye’llgotumblinginyourtracks.Pullup,Isay!"

           ThecommandtakeseffectupontheConnemaraman,whohasbeenmakingdirectforZebStump’smare,tetheredontheothersideoftheopening.Hestopsupontheinstant.

           "Shure,gintlemen,Idon’twanttoescyape,"asseverateshe,shiveringatthesightofascoreofangryfaces,andthesamenumberofgun-barrelsbearinguponhisperson;"Ihadnosuchintinshuns.Iwasonlygoin’to—"

           "Runoff,ifye’dgotthechance.Ye’dmadeagoodbeginning.Here,DickTracey!half-a-dozenturnsofyourtrail-roperoundhim.Lendahand,Shelton!Damnedqueer-lookingcurseheis!Surely,gentlemen,thiscan’tbethemanwe’reinsearchof?"

           "No,no!itisn’t.OnlyhismanJohn."

           "Ho!hilloa,youroundthereattheback!Keepyoureyesskinned.Wehavn’tgothimyet.Don’tletasmuchasacatcreeppastyou.Now,sirree!who’sinside?"

           "Who’sinsoide?Thecyabindivyezmane?"

           "Damnye!answerthequestionthat’sputtoye!"saysTracey,givinghisprisoneratouchofthetrail-rope.