noon
I 'd like to know mighty well who that spy was last night . That cussed Bud Vickers says it was a ha ` nt , on a white hoss , with long hair flyin ' in the wind , 'n' that he shot plumb through it . I jus ' wish I 'd a had a chance at it . '' Still , noon came again without trouble , and the imprisoned Lewallens had been twenty-four hours without food . Their ammunition was getting scarce . The firing was less frequent , though the watch was as close as ever , and twice a Winchester had sounded a signal of distress . All knew that a response must come soon ; and come it did .