n a golden west when Slone reached the
wall of rocks and the cleft where Creech's tracks and Lucy's, too,
marked the camp. Slone did not even dismount. Riding on into the cleft,
he wound at length into a canyon and out of that into a larger one,
where he found that Lucy had remembered to leave a trail, and down this
to a break in a high wall, and through it to another winding, canyon.
The sun set, but Slone kept on as long as he could see the trail, and
after that, until an intersecting canyon made it wise for him to halt.

There were rich grass and sweet water for his horse. He himself was not
hungry, but he ate; he was not sleepy, but he slept. And daylight found
him urging Wildfire in pursuit. On the rocky places Slone found the
cedar berries Lucy had dropped. He welcomed sight of them, but he did
not need them. This man Creech could never hide a trail from him, Slone
thought grimly, and it suited him to follow that trail at a rapid trot.
If he lost the tracks for a distance he went right on, and he knew
where to look for them ahead. There was a vast difference between the
cunning of Creech and the cunning of a wild horse. And there was an
equal difference between the going and staying powers of Creech's
mustangs and Wildfire. Yes, Slone divined that Lucy's salvation would
be Wildfire, her horse. The trail grew rougher, steeper, harder, but
the stallion kept his eagerness and his pace. On many an open length of
canyon or height of wild upland Slone gazed ahead hoping to see
Creech's mustangs. He hoped for that even when he knew he was still too
far behind. And then, suddenly, in the open, sandy flat of an
intersecting canyon he came abruptly on a fresh trail of three horses,
one of them shod.

The surprise stunned him. For a moment he gazed stupidly at these
strange tracks. Who had made them? Had Creech met allies? Was that
likely when the man had no friends? Pondering the thing, Slone went
slowly on, realizing that a new and disturbing feature confronted him.
Then when these new tracks met the trail that Creech had left Slone
found that these strangers were as interested in Creech's tracks as he
was. Slone found their boot-marks in the sand--the hand-prints where
some one had knelt to scrutinize Creech's trail.

Slone led his horse and walked on, more and more disturbed in mind.
When he came to a larger, bare, flat canyon bottom, where the rock had
been washed clear of sand, he found no more cedar berries. They ha