et reached that narrow throat
where his lariat was of sufficient radius to cover the space between
the wall of the canon and the stream. However, he was in excellent
position to maneuver for a throw in case Alcatraz tried to slip by.
Therefore he now brought his pony to a slow lope, and loosening his
rope, he swung the noose in a wide circle; he was ready to plunge to
either side and cast the lariat.

Being nearer to the river than to the canon wall it was in the latter
direction that the stallion found the wider free space and towards it,
accordingly, he directed his flight, running as he had only run when
the lofer wolf dogged his heels. It was only a feint. His eye was
too keen in the calculation of distances and relative speeds not to
realize that the cowpony would beat him to the goal, yet he kept up
his furious pace even when Perris had checked his horse to a trot.
Straight on swept Alcatraz until he saw the glitter of the hunter's
eyes beneath the wide brim of his sombrero--then he braced his legs,
knocking up a small shower of sand and rocks, swerved to the left, and
bolted for the river bank.

Even as he made the move, though blinded by the fierceness of his own
effort, he knew that it would be a tight squeeze. Had the pony under
Perris possessed half of its ordinary speed of foot it would easily
have headed the fugitive or at the least brought its rider in
rope-throw, now, outworn by the long trail it had followed, the little
animal stumbled and almost fell when Perris with iron hand swung it
around. That blunder lost fatal yards, but still it did its honest
best. It was a veteran of many a round-up. No pony in the arduous
work of cutting out was surer of eye or quicker of foot, and now this
dodging back and forth brought a gleam into the bronco's eyes. There
was no need of the goading spur of Perris to make it spring forth at
full speed, running on nerve-power in place of the sapped strength of
muscle.

The stumble had given Alcatraz a fighting chance for his freedom--that
was all. He recognized the flying peril as he raced in a wide loping
semicircle. If the river were twenty yards further off he, running two
feet to the cowpony's one, would brush through safely, but as it was
no one could tell. He knew the reach of a lariat as well as a man;
had not Cordova tormented him devilishly with one time and again?
Estimating the speed of his approaching enemy and the reach of the
rope he felt that he could stil