Maverick Joe, despite his courage, almost fell against his young companion.
His followers had also recognized the specter with the pistols.
It was Old Jack, the driver, but he looked more like a corpse than a man in whose breast a heart was beating.
“Single file!” said Maverick Joe, glancing at his Vigilantes. “Death is at the old fellow’s heart-strings. He doesn’t know what he’s doin’. Let no man touch ’im.”
At the head of his men, the Vigilante of Custer moved forward. Chilled with terror, they all hugged the canyon wall, nor breathed until they had passed the apparition.
Beyond the specter Maverick Joe drew rein.
“Great rocks and the gods! did you all notice ’im?” he exclaimed, turning to his men.
“He is dead, stone dead!” said several. “Look! there he sits yet! just as we passed ’im. He’ll tumble off when his horse moves.”
The band looked back, and saw the occupant of the pass, motionless, like an equestrian statue in brass.
“Now for the bonanza. Hurrah! for the claim what hes but one big share!”
Then the ghostly horse shot forward, and the white-faced men who looked, saw him carry his death-touched rider out of sight.
To return to the boy Vigilante and his prisoner.
The words that we have recorded as they fell from the youth’s lips, told Deadly Dan that his life was in imminent peril.
His arms had been pinioned at his sides, and Red Crest, the Sioux, trotted at his horse’s head.
“Where is this self-styled court where you are popularly supposed to administer justice?” sneered the captive Sport, unable to curb his feelings and impatience longer. He had turned upon the boy avenger to whose temples a flush of indignation mounted.
“We are almost there,” was the answer. “You are not expecting mercy at our hands?”
“You were going to grant me much that night in the camp on the Rosebud when Red Crest interfered.”
Deadly Dan shot a look of anger at the Indian which was returned with interest.
“Of course not,” he said, answering his young interlocutor. “If you know what I do, boy, maybe you wouldn’t blame me for wanting your life--that is, if you were in my place, and had my nature.”
The eyes of Judge Lynch, Jr., dilated with astonishment; he glanced quickly at Red Crest as if fearful that the Sioux was listening. But such did not seem to be the case.