carrying them in his hand. As before, he
intended putting them on at the kitchen door. But Bob's dog would not
betray him this time, for since the other accident he had contrived to
persuade Bob to keep the dog outside at night. Nor would there occur
any other accident--he would take care of that. And so it took him a
long time to descend the stairs and make his way to the kitchen door.
Once outside, he drew on his boots and stole silently and swiftly to
the front door of the house.

To his astonishment, when he arrived at the door, there was no light,
no sound to indicate that anybody was in the room. He tried the
door--it was barred. He stepped to the window. If there was a light
within it would show through the cracks and holes in the shade, for the
latter was old and well worn.

But no light appeared. If there was anyone inside they must have heard
him in spite of his carefulness, and had put out the light. He cursed.
He could not watch both the back and the front door, but he could watch
the outside of the house, could go a little distance away from it and
thus see anybody who would leave it.

He walked away toward the timber clump, looking around him. As his
gaze swept the wood near the river he caught a glimpse of a horse and
rider as they passed through a clearing and went slowly away from him.

They had tricked him again! Probably by this time Betty was in her
room, laughing at him. Taggart was laughing, too, no doubt. The
thought maddened him. He cursed bitterly as he ran to the stable. He
was inside in a flash, saddling Blackleg, jamming a bit into his mouth.
He would follow Taggart to the Arrow, to hell--anywhere, but he would
catch him. Blackleg could do it; he would make him do it, if he killed
him in the end.

In three minutes Blackleg shot out of the stable door--a flash in the
night. The swift turn that was required of him he made on his hind
legs, and then, with a plunge and a snort of delight, he was away over
the level toward the wood.

Calumet guided Blackleg toward the spot where he had seen the rider,
certain that he could not have gone far during the interval that had
elapsed, but when he reached the spot there was no sign of a horse and
rider in any direction.

For an instant only Calumet halted Blackleg, and then he spurred him
down the river trail. One mile, two, three, he rode at a breakneck
pace, and then suddenly he was out of the timber and facing a plain
that s