rd the hammers
falling so swiftly they blended their clicks almost in one sound.
Lassiter reloaded the guns with a speed comparable with the other
actions. A remarkable transformation had come over him. He did not seem
the same man. The mild eyes had changed; the long, shadowy, sloping
lines were tense cords; and there was a cold, ashy shade on his face.

"Twelve years!" he muttered to himself. "I dropped them old guns back
there where I rolled the rock.... Twelve years!"

Shefford realized the twelve years were as if they had never been. And
he would rather have had this old gun-man with him than a dozen ordinary
men.

The Indian spoke rapidly in Navajo, saying that once in the rocks
they were safe. Then, after another look at the distant dust-puffs, he
wheeled his mustang.

It was doubtful if the party could have kept near him had they been
responsible for the gait of their mounts. The fact was that the way the
called to his mustang or some leadership in the one rode drew the others
to a like trot or climb or canter. For a long time Shefford did not turn
round; he knew what to expect. And when he did turn he was startled
at the gain made by the pursuers. But he was encouraged as well by the
looming, red, rounded peaks seemingly now so close. He could see the
dark splits between the sloping curved walls, the pinyon patches in the
amphitheater under the circled walls. That was a wild place they were
approaching, and, once in there, he believed pursuit would be useless.
However, there were miles to go still, and those hard-riding devils
behind made alarming decrease in the intervening distance. Shefford
could see the horses plainly now. How they made the dust fly! He counted
up to six--and then the dust and moving line caused the others to be
indistinguishable.

At last only a long, gently rising slope separated the fugitives from
that labyrinthine network of wildly carved rock. But it was the clear
air that made the distance seem short. Mile after mile the mustangs
climbed, and when they were perhaps half-way across that last slope to
the rocks the first horse of the pursuers mounted to the level behind.
In a few moments the whole band was strung out in sight. Nas Ta Bega
kept his mustang at a steady walk, in spite of the gaining pursuers.
There came a point, however, when the Indian, reaching comparatively
level ground, put his mount to a swinging canter. The other mustangs
broke into the same gait.

It became