He met neither. He heard nothing but the usual sighing of the prairie
wind that ceased rarely, and he saw nothing but the faint glow on the
southern horizon that marked the Mexican camp where he had met his
enemy.
He left the arroyo, and saw a dark shadow on the plain, the figure of a
man, rifle in hand, Ned instantly sprang back into the arroyo and the
stranger did the same. A curve in the line of this cut in the earth now
hid them from each other, and Ned, his body pressed against the bank,
waited with beating heart. He had no doubt that it was a Mexican
sentinel or scout more vigilant than the others, and he felt his danger.
Ned in this crisis used the utmost caution. He did not believe that any
other would come, and it must be a test of patience between him and his
enemy. Whoever showed his head first would be likely to lose in the duel
for life. He pressed himself closer and closer against the bank, and
sought to detect some movement of the stranger. He saw nothing and he
did not hear a sound. It seemed that the man had absolutely vanished
into space. It occurred to Ned that it might have been a mere figment of
the dusk and his excited brain, but he quickly dismissed the idea.
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