There were men closely watching the building from the moment darkness
closed over the scene. Had Sterry attempted to steal along the side of
the house and then dodge away, he would have been detected and halted
at once. On the contrary, he moved with his usual gait in a diagonal
direction toward the stables. His object was to learn the likeliest
method of leaving the place.
He had perhaps walked fifty feet, when some one advanced from the
gloom and called, in an undertone:
"Halloo, who is that?"
"It's I, Smith; who are you?"
The name, of course, was a venture, but it was not uncommon, as the
reader knows, and more likely to be right than any other. The best of
it was, it seemed to satisfy the other, who, without announcing his
own, asked:
"What are you doing?"
"I've been looking around to see what I could learn."
"Anything new?"
"No, not as far as I can discover; they seem to have a light burning
in there, but are waiting for us."
"I wonder they didn't give you a shot; Vesey says they are desperate,
and he brought back word that they would shoot the first of us seen
prowling about the place. I wonder you didn't catch it."
"I took good care. When do you suppose the fight will open?"
"Pretty soon; I s'pose you are as tired of this dallying as the rest
of us."
"Well, it strikes me as best to wait until sure everything is ready."
Sterry was anxious to end this pointless conversation, for the
stranger had approached quite near and peered into his face, as though
not free from suspicion. The darkness was deep, but on the other side
of the ridge a small fire was burning, from fragments brought from the
stables. Of this the adventurer meant to keep clear at all hazards.
More than one rustler knew him intimately, and it might be that he to
whom he was talking was an old acquaintance and enemy.
How Sterry longed for the presence of Vesey!
In a natural manner he sauntered up the ridge, as if his intention
was to return to the camp-fire, that being the course most likely to
dissipate any misgiving on the part of the other.
The latter made no response, and Sterry kept on, thinking:
"I'm rid of him, any way, and ought to have less trouble with others
that may wish to ask questions."
But, glancing over his shoulder, he was startled to observe that
the man, instead of moving off, as he had supposed, was standing
motionless in the gloom, as if studying him.
"By gracious!" concluded the youth, "he must have noticed my voice,
for, not knowing Smith, how could I imitate it?"
The situation would have made any one uneasy, but he did not hasten
nor retard his footsteps until he reached the top of the ridge, and
was able to observe the camp-fire clearly.
It was small, as has been said, but five or six figures were
lolling about it, smoking, talking, and passing the dismal hours as
inclination prompted. Other forms were moving hither and thither, some
of them quite close to where Sterry had halted, though none paid him
any attention.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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