had traversed Lucy made out for herself faint moving
specks miles behind.

"I reckon you see thet," said Creech

"Horses," replied Lucy.

He nodded his head gloomily, and seemed pondering a serious question.

"Is some one trailing us?" asked Lucy, and she could not keep the
tremor out of her voice.

"Wal, I should smile! Fer two days--an' it sure beats me. They've never
had a sight of us. But they keep comin'."

"They! Who?" she asked, swiftly.

"I hate to tell you, but I reckon I ought. Thet's Cordts an' two of his
gang."

"Oh--don't tell me so!" cried Lucy, suddenly terrified. Mention of
Cordts had not always had power to frighten her, but this time she had
a return of that shaking fear which had overcome her in the grove the
night she was captured.

"Cordts all right," replied Creech. "I knowed thet before I seen him.
Fer two mornin's back I seen his hoss grazin in thet wide canyon. But I
thought I'd slipped by. Some one seen us. Or they seen our trail.
Anyway, he's after us. What beats me is how he sticks to thet trail.
Cordts never was no tracker. An' since Dick Sears is dead there ain't a
tracker in Cordts's outfit. An' I always could hide my tracks.... Beats
me!"

"Creech, I've been leaving a trail," confessed Lucy.

"What!"

Then she told him how she had been dropping cedar berries and bits of
cedar leaves along the bare and stony course they had traversed.

"Wal, I'm--" Creech stifled an oath. Then he laughed, but gruffly. "You
air a cute one. But I reckon you didn't promise not to do thet.... An'
now if Cordts gits you there'll be only yourself to blame."

"Oh!" cried Lucy, frantically looking back. The moving specks were
plainly in sight. "How can he know he's trailing me?"

"Thet I can't say. Mebbe he doesn't know. His hosses air fresh, though,
an' if I can't shake him he'll find out soon enough who he's trailin'."

"Go on! We must shake him. I'll never do THAT again! ... For God's
sake, Creech, don't let him get me!"

And Creech led down off the high open land into canyons again.

The day ended, and the night seemed a black blank to Lucy. Another
sunrise found Creech leading on, sparing neither Lucy nor the horses.
He kept on a steady walk or trot, and he picked out ground less likely
to leave any tracks. Like an old deer he doubled on his trail. He
traveled down stream-beds where the water left no trail. That day the
mustangs began to fail. The others were wearing out.

The canyons