The horse upon which Haines rode could not hold the pace, and when half an
hour had elapsed no sound of pursuit was heard.
It was time Walter gave the captured animal a breathing spell, if he hoped
to reach Salem as he had calculated, and he brought him to a standstill
while he pulled off his coat to examine the wound on his arm.
It was rather deeper than a scratch, but yet nothing more serious than to
cause a goodly show of blood, and Walter put on his coat again without a
thought that any bandaging might be necessary.
This done, he rode on at a more leisurely pace, but listening intently for
any sound betokening the approach of his enemy.
Nothing occurred to cause him alarm, and it was not yet sunset when he
drew rein in front of William Cotton's store.
That gentleman was in and disengaged, as was seen when he came to the door
for a view of the new arrival.
"What! Is it you, Walter Neal?"
"There is no doubt about it in my mind, although my joints are so stiff
from long riding that if I was less acquainted with myself I might believe
I was only a portion of the saddle," Walter said, laughingly, as he
dismounted, and added, in a graver tone, "I must speak with you alone,
Friend Cotton."
"I am alone now. Take your horse to the stable, and come back at once."
"I will leave him where he is; perhaps it will not be well for you to know
anything about him.
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