What he saw was a black head cutting the water just above him, and
beside the horse, one hand upon the beast's mane, swam a man. At the
same instant a hand fastened on his collar and he was drawn slowly
against the force of the river.
In the stunning surprise of the first moment he could make no effort to
save himself, and as a result, all three were washed hopelessly down the
current, but a shrill warning from his rescuer set him fighting again
with all the power of his great limbs. After that they forged steadily
towards the shore. The black horse swam with amazing strength, and
breaking the force of the current for the men, they soon passed from the
full grip of the torrent and forged into the smoother shallows at the
side of the stream. In a moment firm land was beneath the feet of Mac
Strann, and he turned his dull eyes of amazement upon Dan Barry. The
latter stood beside the panting black horse. He had not even thrown off
his slicker in the fording of the stream--there had been no time for
even that small delay if he wished to save Strann. And now he was
throwing back the folds of the garment to leave free play for his arms.
He panted from the fierce effort of the fording, but his head was high,
a singular smile lingered about the corners of his mouth, and in his
eyes Mac Strann saw the gleam of yellow, a signal of unfathomable
danger.
From his holsters Barry drew two revolvers. One he retained; the other
he tossed towards Mac Strann, and the latter caught it automatically.
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