n
descried several horsemen. Shots and yells behind him attested to the
fact that his pursuers likewise had seen these new-comers on the scene.
More than a mile separated these two parties, yet that distance did not
keep them from soon understanding each other. Duane waited only to see
this new factor show signs of sudden quick action, and then, with a
muttered curse, he spurred his horse off the road into the brush.

He chose the right side, because the river lay nearer that way. There
were patches of open sandy ground between clumps of cactus and mesquite,
and he found that despite a zigzag course he made better time. It was
impossible for him to locate his pursuers. They would come together, he
decided, and take to his tracks.

What, then, was his surprise and dismay to run out of a thicket right
into a low ridge of rough, broken rock, impossible to get a horse over.
He wheeled to the left along its base. The sandy ground gave place to
a harder soil, where his horse did not labor so. Here the growths of
mesquite and cactus became scanter, affording better travel but poor
cover. He kept sharp eyes ahead, and, as he had expected, soon saw
moving dust-clouds and the dark figures of horses. They were half a mile
away, and swinging obliquely across the flat, which fact proved that
they had entertained a fair idea of the country and the fugitive's
difficulty.

Without an instant's hesitation Duane put his horse to his best efforts,
straight ahead. He had to pass those men. When this was seemingly made
impossible by a deep wash from which he had to turn, Duane began to feel
cold and sick. Was this the end? Always there had to be an end to an
outlaw's career. He wanted then to ride straight at these pursuers. But
reason outweighed instinct. He was fleeing for his life; nevertheless,
the strongest instinct at the time was his desire to fight.

He knew when these three horsemen saw him, and a moment afterward he
lost sight of them as he got into the mesquite again. He meant now
to try to reach the road, and pushed his mount severely, though still
saving him for a final burst. Rocks, thickets, bunches of cactus,
washes--all operated against his following a straight line. Almost he
lost his bearings, and finally would have ridden toward his enemies
had not good fortune favored him in the matter of an open burned-over
stretch of ground.

Here he saw both groups of pursuers, one on each side and almost within
gun-shot. Their