“I really must go,” thought Ned, after he had started toward the house two or three times, and as often drawn back again to wait until he could gather a fresh supply of courage. “I have been frightened so many times to-night that I imagine all sorts of things. Every tree and bush I look at, turns into a horseman, and I am almost——” Ned stopped suddenly, and stooping close to the ground, looked sharply at some object in the distance. “Whew!” he exclaimed, drawing his hand across his dripping forehead, “it did look like a long line of horsemen and—so it is. Yes, sir, I can see them plainly enough. It’s all over with Ned Ackerman now!” The boy turned in the instant and placing his hands on the side of the deep manger which ran the whole length of one end of the shed, vaulted over it, and concealed himself. He lay for a moment trembling with alarm, and then pulling off his hat, cautiously raised his head until he could see over the top of the manger. The objects which had aroused his fears were certainly mounted men. They were moving in single file by the side of the trail, and as the long, thick grass deadened the sound of their horses’ feet, their approach was almost noiseless. “What are they?” thought Ned, ducking his head after he had taken one short, quick glance at the men. “Are they raiders, or have those strangers found out something and come back with reinforcements?” Ned could not have told just then which he stood the more in fear of—the angry owner of the horse at his side or lawless Mexicans. He knew that it would be dangerous to fall into the hands of either of them. He could not reach the shelter of the house—they could easily cut him off if he attempted it—and his only chance to escape capture, or something worse, was to remain quiet in his place of concealment, and trust to luck. It was not at all likely that the horsemen, whoever they were, would think of looking in the shed for him even if they wanted to find him. Just then Ned’s new horse threw up his head, looked over his shoulder and uttered a loud, shrill neigh. Ned tried hard to stop it, but without success. The animal neighed not only once, but two or three times in succession, in spite of the furious jerks the boy gave at his bridle. Here was a new cause for alarm. The animal wanted company, and he would keep up that neighing as long as there were any horses in sight. He would be sure to attract attention by it too. “You’ll keep me in trouble as long as you stay with me,” said Ned, jumping to his feet to act upon an idea that just then came into his mind, “and the sooner you and I part company the better it will be for me. There you go,” he added, as he pulled the halter over the horse’s head and saw him gallop out of the shed. “I hope I shall never see you again. I wish I had never seen you in the first place.”