His eyes flared wide and he held himself still, staring into the darkness, his ears reaching for sound. He could smell the dry grass on which his blankets were spread and he could smell the night. And then he heard again the sound that had awakened him. It was the stir of hoofs on the dusty trail some thirty yards away—not the sound of one horse alone, but of several horses. Carefully, he lifted himself to one elbow. This was strange country and he was unarmed. What motives might inspire whoever was out there he could not guess, but large groups of riders do not move silently along midnight trails without adequate reason. This was no celebrating bunch of cowhands headed for the home ranch. These men were quiet, and their very stillness was a warning. No stranger to trouble, he lay perfectly still, feeling the muscles back of his ears tighten with suspense. They had stopped. A horse moved nervously, and then there was a voice. “Right above your head.” There was a pause. “That’s it.”
What do You think about Novel 1954 - Utah Blaine (As Jim Mayo) (v5.0)?
