The spell was broken by the trampling of horses and the sound of
loud voices. For a moment they held their places, motionless, as
if rudely awakened from a dream. The sound was coming nearer. Then
Young Matt spoke, "It's Wash Gibbs and his crowd from the still.
Ride into the brush quick."

There was no time for flight. In the bright moonlight, they would
have been easily recognized, and a wild chase would have followed.
Leaving the road, they forced their horses into a thick clump of
bushes, where they dismounted, to hold the animals by their heads.
Scarcely had they gained this position when the first of the crowd
reached the spot where they had been a moment before. Wash Gibbs
was easily distinguished by his gigantic form, and with him were
ten others, riding two and two, several of whom were known to
Young Matt as the most lawless characters in the country. All were
fired by drink and were laughing and talking, with now and then a
burst of song, or a vulgar jest.

"I say, Wash," called one, "What'll you do if Young Matt's there?"
The unseen listeners could not hear the leader's reply; but those
about the speaker laughed and shouted with great glee. Then the
two in the bushes distinctly heard the last man in the line ask
his companion, "Do you reckon he'll put up a fight?" and as they
passed from sight, the other answered, "Wash don't aim t' give him
no show."

When the sounds had died away; Young Matt turned to the girl;
"Come on; we've got to keep 'em in sight."