rapidly as the nature of the ground
would permit, expecting to be shot at from any clump of cedars. The
trail led down again into a narrow canyon with low walls. Slone put all
his keenness on what lay before him.

Wildfire's sudden break and upflinging of head and his snort preceded
the crack of a rifle. Slone knew he had been shot at, although he
neither felt nor heard the bullet. He had no chance to see where the
shot came from, for Wildfire bolted, and needed as much holding and
guiding as Slone could give. He ran a mile. Then Slone was able to look
about him. Had he been shot at from above or behind? He could not tell.
It did not matter, so long as the danger was not in front. He kept a
sharp lookout, and presently along the right canyon rim, five hundred
feet above him, he saw a bay horse, and a rider with a rifle. He had
been wrong, then, about these riders and their weapons. Slone did not
see any wisdom in halting to shoot up at this pursuer, and he spurred
Wildfire just as a sharp crack sounded above. The bullet thudded into
the earth a few feet behind him. And then over bad ground, with the
stallion almost unmanageable, Slone ran a gantlet of shots. Evidently
the man on the rim had smooth ground to ride over, for he easily kept
abreast of Slone. But he could not get the range. Fortunately for
Slone, broken ramparts above checked the tricks of that pursuer, and
Slone saw no more of him.

It afforded him great relief to find that Creech's trail turned into a
canyon on the left; and here, with the sun already low, Slone began to
watch the clumps of cedars and the jumbles of rock. But he was not
ambushed. Darkness set in, and, being tired out, he was about to halt
for the night when he caught the flicker of a campfire. The stallion
saw it, too, but did not snort. Slone dismounted and, leading him, went
cautiously forward on foot, rifle in hand.

The canyon widened at a point where two breaks occurred, and the
less-restricted space was thick with cedar and pinyon. Slone could tell
by the presence of these trees and also by a keener atmosphere that he
was slowly getting to a higher attitude. This camp-fire must belong to
Cordts or the one man who had gone on ahead. And Slone advanced boldly.
He did not have to make up his mind what to do.

But he was amazed to see several dark forms moving to and fro before
the bright camp-fire, and he checked himself abruptly. Considering a
moment, Slone thought he had better ha