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- Стр. 125/662
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The
speaker
scanned
the
surface
of
the
plain
with
an
interrogative
glance
;
as
if
there
,
and
not
from
Cassius
Calhoun
,
expecting
an
answer
to
his
question
.
"
I
can
not
see
their
tracks
anywhere
,
"
replied
the
ex-captain
.
"
No
,
ka
n't
ye
?
I
kin
though
.
Lookee
hyur
!
Do
n't
ye
see
them
thur
bruises
on
the
grass
?
"
"
No
.
"
"
Durn
it
!
thur
plain
es
the
nose
on
a
Jew
's
face
.
Thur
's
a
big
shoe
,
an
a
little
un
clost
aside
o
'
it
.
Thet
's
the
way
they
've
rud
off
,
which
show
that
they
hai
n't
follered
the
wild
maars
no
further
than
hyur
.
We
'd
better
keep
on
arter
them
?
"
"
By
all
means
!
"
Without
further
parley
,
Zeb
started
along
the
new
trail
;
which
,
though
still
undiscernible
to
the
eye
of
the
other
,
was
to
him
as
conspicuous
as
he
had
figuratively
declared
it
.
In
a
little
while
it
became
visible
to
his
companion
--
on
their
arrival
at
the
place
where
the
fugitives
had
once
more
urged
their
horses
into
a
gallop
to
escape
from
the
cavallada
,
and
where
the
shod
tracks
deeply
indented
the
turf
.
Shortly
after
their
trail
was
again
lost
--
or
would
have
been
to
a
scrutiny
less
keen
than
that
of
Zeb
Stump
--
among
the
hundreds
of
other
hoof-marks
seen
now
upon
the
sward
.
"
Hilloo
!
"
exclaimed
the
old
hunter
,
in
some
surprise
at
the
new
sign
.
"
What
's
been
a
doin
'
hyur
?
This
air
some
'
at
kewrious
.
"
