While they were still talking he put his saddle bags over his arm,
opened the shutter its full width, and dropped quietly to the ground
outside, remembering to take the precaution of closing the shutter
behind him, lest the sudden inrush of cold startle the Leffingwells and
their friends.
It was an icy night, but Dick did not stop to notice it. He ran to the
stable, saddled and bridled his horse in two minutes, and in another
minute was flying westward over the flinty road, careless whether or not
they heard the beat of his horse's hoofs.
CHAPTER VIII
A MEETING AT NIGHT
Dick heard above the thundering hoofbeats only a single shout, and then,
as he glanced backward, the house was lost in the moonlight. When he
secured his own horse he had noticed that all the empty stalls were now
filled, no doubt by the horses of the young Leffingwells and Kerins,
but he was secure in his confidence that none could overtake the one he
rode.
He felt of that inside pocket of his vest. The precious dispatch was
there, tightly pinned into its hidden refuge, and as for himself,
refreshed, warm, and strong after food, rest, and sleep, he felt equal
to any emergency. He had everything with him. The stout saddle bags
were lying across the saddle. He had thrust the holster of pistols into
them, but he took it out now, and hung it in its own place, also across
the saddle.
Although he was quite sure there would be no pursuit--the elder
Leffingwells would certainly keep their sons from joining it--he sent
his great horse straight ahead at a good pace for a long time, the
road being fairly good.
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