Ned walked a little further down the slope.  Then he jumped back and hid behind a bush.  He had caught a glimpse of a horse saddled and bridled in the Mexican manner, and it was his first thought that a detachment from the army of Cos was riding straight toward them.  But as he stood behind the bush, heart beating, eyes gazing through the leaves, he saw that it was only a single horse.  Nor was it coming toward him.  It seemed to be moving about slowly in a circle of very limited area.  Then, leaving the bush, he saw that the horse was riderless.  He watched a long time to see if the owner would appear, and as none came he went back and awakened Obed White.

“What!  What!” said Obed, opening his eyes slowly and yawning mightily.  “Has the day come?  Verily, it is a long night that has no ending.  And so you have seen a horse, Ned, a horse saddled and bridled and with no owner!  It can’t be the one that King Richard offered his kingdom for, and since it isn’t we’ll just see why this caparisoned animal is there grazing in our valley.”

The two went down the slope.  The horse was still there, grazing in his grassy circle, and as the two approached he drew away a little but did not seem to be frightened.  Then Ned understood, or at least his belief was so strong that it amounted to conviction.

“It’s the horse of the soldier whom you shot yesterday,” he said.  “You remember that he galloped away among the bushes.  No doubt, too, he was driven a long distance by the storm.  He can’t be accounted for in any other manner.”

“There are some guesses so good that you know at once they’re right,” said Obed, “and yours is one of them, Ned.  Now that is a valuable horse.  One of the most valuable that ever grazed in a valley of Mexico or any other valley.  He’s so precious because we want him, and we want him so bad that he’s worth a million dollars to us.”

“That one of us may ride him to Texas.”

“Yes, and we may be able to secure another.  You stay here, Ned, and let me catch him.  Horses like me better than some men do.”

Ned sat down and Obed advanced warily, holding out his hand and whistling gently.  It was a most persuasive whistle, soft and thrilling and the horse raised his head, looked contemplatively out of large lustrous eyes at the whistler.  Obed advanced, still whistling, in the most wonderful, enticing manner.  Ned felt that if he were a horse he could not resist it, that he would go to the whistler, expecting to receive oats, corn, and everything else that a healthy horse loves.  It seemed to have some such effect upon the quarry that Obed coveted, because the horse, after withdrawing a step, advanced toward the man.

Obed stopped, but continued to whistle, pouring forth the most beautiful and winning trills and quavers.  The horse came and Obed, reaching out, seized the bridle which hung loose.  He stroked the horse’s head and the animal rubbed his nose against his shoulder.  The conquest was complete.  Bridle in hand, Obed led the way and Ned met him.