ubt, then, humanly speaking, that he would make
for the same safe refuge.

At first glance this seemed quite improbable, to be sure, for the Morgan
Hills lay due east, or very nearly east, while the place from which
Barry must have sallied forth and to which he would return was somewhere
well north of west, and a good forty miles away. It seemed strange that
he should strike off in the opposite direction, so Billy closed his
eyes, leaned back in his chair, and summoned up a picture of the
country.

Five miles to the east the Morgan Hills rolled, sharply broken ups and
downs of country--bad lands rather than real hills, and a difficult
region to keep game in view. That very idea gave Billy his clue. Barry
knew that he would be followed hard and fast, and he headed straight for
the Morgan's to throw the posse off the final direction he intended
to take in his flight. In spite of the matchless speed of that black
stallion of which the sheriff had learned so much, he would probably
let the posse keep within easy view of him until he was deep within the
bad-lands. Then he would double, sharply around and strike out in the
true direction of his flight.

Having reached this point in his deductions, Billy smote his hands
together. He was trembling with excitement so that he filled his pipe
with difficulty. By the time it was drawing well he was back examining
his mental picture of the country.

West of Rickett about the same distance as Morgan Hills, ran the Wago
Mountains, low, rolling ranges which would hardly form an impediment for
a horseman. Across these Barry might cut at a good speed on his western
course, but some fifteen or twenty miles from Rickett he was bound to
reach a most difficult barrier. It was the Asper river, at this season
of the year swollen high and swift with snow-water--a rare feat indeed
if a man could swim his horse across such a stream. There were only two
places in which it could be forded.

About fifty miles north and a little east of the line from Rickett the
Asper spread out into a broad, shallow bed, its streams dispersed for
several miles into a number of channels which united again, farther
down the course, and made the same strong river. Towards this ford,
therefore, it was possible that Dan Barry would head, in the region of
Caswell City.

There was, however, another way of crossing the stream. Almost due west
of Rickett, a distance of fifteen miles, Tucker Creek joined the Asper.
Ab