fore he led one of the horses out and mounted.

The moonlight was clear enough to show him that there were no fresh
wheelmarks in the snow. Wandle had kept to the trail, and Prescott
surmised that he would travel south toward the American boundary.
Although he feared he would lose ground steadily, he meant to follow,
since there was a chance of the fugitive's being delayed by some
accident, which would enable him to come up. It was extremely cold,
Prescott was not dressed for riding, and the folded blanket made a very
bad saddle. At times pale moonlight shone down, but more often it died
away, obscured by thin cloud. The trail, however, was plain and the big
Clydesdale was covering the ground. Prescott's hands and feet grew
numbed, and there was a risk in this, but he trotted steadily on.

After a while he heard two horsemen following him. He did not pull up;
time was precious, and if the others wished to overtake him, he had no
doubt that they could do so. During the next few minutes it became
evident that they were gaining, and he heard a cry which he answered
without stopping. Then, as the moon came through, another shout reached
him, sharp and commanding:

"Stop, before we drop you!"

This was not to be disregarded. Pulling up, he turned his horse. Two
mounted men rode furiously down on him, loose snow flying about their
horses, and one poised a carbine across his saddle. Struggling to check
his horse, he swept past, shouting to his comrade:

"Hold on! It's Prescott!"

They were a little distance ahead when they stopped and trotted back, and
Prescott waited until Curtis pulled up at his side.

"Where were you going?" cried the corporal.

"After Wandle."

"I might have guessed!" said Curtis savagely, and turned to Stanton.
"This explains the thing."

"How far is he ahead of you?" Stanton asked.

"He got off half an hour before I did, as near as I can guess."

They sat silent for a moment or two, breathless and crestfallen, their
horses distressed.

"Let's get into the lee of the bluff yonder; this wind's keen," Curtis
said.

"You're losing time," Prescott objected.

"We've lost it," Curtis told him grimly. "My mount has been out since
noon, and it's near midnight now. Stanton's isn't much fresher."

Prescott rode with them to the bluff, where they got down.

"That's a relief; it's quite a while since I could feel the bridle," said
Curtis, turning to Prescott. "How did you scare Wandle off? Be as