Then it too was still.
He remained only a half minute in the grass. Then he began to creep back,
curving a little in his course, toward his own horse. He did not believe
that Shepard's faculty of hearing was as keen as his own, and he moved
with the greatest deftness. He relied upon the fact that Shepard had not
yet located the horse, and if Harry could reach it quickly it would not
be hard for him, a mounted man, to leave behind Shepard, dismounted.
It might be possible, too, that Shepard had gone back to see about his
own horse, not knowing that it was slain.
He saw the dusky outline of his horse, and, rising, made two or three
jumps. Then he snatched the rein loose, sprang upon his back, and lying
down upon his neck to avoid bullets, crashed away, reckless of bushes and
briars. He heard one bullet flying near him, but he laughed in delight
and relief as his horse sped on toward Longstreet.
He did not diminish his speed until he had gone two or three miles,
and then, knowing that Shepard had been left hopelessly behind, even
if he had attempted pursuit, he brought his horse down to a walk, and
laughed. There was a bit of nervous excitement in the laugh. He had
outwitted Shepard again. He had never seen the man, but it did not enter
his mind that it was not he.
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