him helpless to the earth. I heard his voice, hateful and snarling, as
he cursed Rale for his slowness, and the hot blood boiled in my veins,
when he jerked the girl upright in the saddle.

"Thar," said the saloon keeper, at last, testing his strap. "I reckon
she can't fall off nohow, even if she don't sit up worth a damn. Go
ahead now, Moffett."

Both the men stepped aside, and I led my horse forward. The movement
brought me more into the open, and face to face with Kirby. By some
trick of fate, at that very instant a star-gleam, piercing through the
screen of leaves overhead, struck full into my eyes. With an oath he
thrust my hat back and stared straight at me.

CHAPTER XXV

THE FUGITIVES

I could not see the mingled hate and horror glaring in the man's eyes,
but there could be no doubt of his recognition. The acknowledgment
found expression in a startled exclamation.

"By God!--you, here!"

That was all the time I gave him. With every pound of strength, with
every ounce of dislike, I drove a clenched fist into that surprised
face, and the fellow went down as though smitten by an axe. Even as he
reeled, Rale leaped on me, cursing, failing to understand the cause,
yet instinctively realizing the presence of an enemy. He caught me
from behind, the very weight of his heavy body throwing me from
balance, although I caught one of his arms, as he attempted to strike,
and locked with him in desperate struggle. He was a much heavier and
stronger man than I, accustomed to barroom fighting, reckless of
method, caring for nothing except to get his man. His grip was at my
throat, and, even as his fingers closed savagely, he struck me with one
knee in the stomach, and drove an elbow straight into my face. The
next instant we were locked together so closely any blow became
impossible, youth and agility waging fierce battle against brutal
strength. I think I was his match, yet this I never knew--for all my
thought centered in an effort to keep his hands from reaching any
weapon. Whatever happened to me, there must be no alarm, no noise
sufficiently loud so as to attract the attention of sentries on guard.
This affair must be fought out with bare knuckles and straining
sinews--fought in silence to the end. I held him to me in a bear grip,
but his overmastering strength bore me backward, my body bending
beneath the strain until every muscle ached.

"Damn you--you sneakin' spy!" he hissed savagely, and