Zang is to ride in an' have a look-see all round. But remember, boys, don't pull a trigger unless it 's a matter of keeping a puncture outa your hide; a butt makes no noise and 's mighty handy for close work."
They rode under a group of alders a hundred yards or so away from the nearest of the houses and tethered their horses. Then, each with his .45 snuggled in the palm of the right hand, they approached the nearest lighted house, half crawling, Indian fashion, with the knuckles of the left hand touching ground. A short run across a patch of ground lighted by two windows brought the three standing back against the logs of the house, around the corner from the door.
That instant the scream of a pony sounded from the alder thicket where they had tethered their beasts.
"Damn that watch-eyed cayuse of mine!" Timberline breathed. "Always plays the goat with his teeth when a stranger hoss is round."
They heard the door open; they could feel, even though they did not see, the presence of a man in the doorway straining to peer through the dark.
"Don't see nothin', Zang," came the voice.
