It was difficult to secure a connected story from Ricardo, but he
finally made it plain that at the first report the other thief had
fled, exposing himself only long enough for the old man to take a
quick shot in his direction. Ricardo had missed, and the miscreant
was doubtless well away by this time. He had ridden a sorrel
horse, that was all Ricardo could remember.
Law looked only briefly at the gruesome results of his
marksmanship, then he turned back to the body of his beloved mare.
Ricardo noticed at length that he was crying; as the Ranger knelt
beside the dead thoroughbred the old Mexican whispered to his son:
"Valgame Dios! This is a strange fellow. He weeps like a woman. He
must have loved that horse as a man loves his wife. Who can
understand these Gringos?" After a time he approached cautiously
and inquired: "What shall we do with this hombre, senor? Pedro has
found his horse."
Law roused himself. With his own hands he gently removed Bessie
Belle's saddle, bridle, and blanket, then he gave his orders.
"I'll take your horse, Ricardo, and you take--that fellow's. Get a
wagon and move him to Jonesville."
"And you?"
"I'm going to follow that man on the sorrel.
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