e must try to get the body farther ashore. Alas, his
strength hardly sufficed now to raise the head alone and when he made
his effort his legs crumpled beneath him. There he sat with the head
of Alcatraz in his lap--he the hunter and this the hunted!

There was small measure of religion in Red Perris but now, in
helplessness, he raised his trembling hands to the stormy grey of the
sky above him.

"God A'mighty," said Red Perris, "I sure ain't done much to make
You listen to me, but I got this to say: that if they's a call for
something to die right now it ain't the hoss that's to blame. It's me
that hounded him into the river. Alcatraz ain't any pet, but he's sure
lived according to his rights. Let him live and I'll let him go free.
I got no right to him. I didn't make him. I never owned him. But let
him stand up on his four legs again; let me see him go galloping once
more, the finest hoss that ever bucked a fool man out of the saddle,
and I'll call it quits!"

It was near to a prayer, if indeed this were not a prayer in
truth. And glancing down to the head on his lap, he shivered with
superstitious wonder. Alcatraz had unquestionably drawn a long and
sighing breath.

CHAPTER XXVI

PARTNERS

The recovery was no miracle. The strangling coil of rope which shut
off the wind of Alcatraz had also kept any water from passing into his
lungs, and as the air now began to come back and the reviving oxygen
reached his blood, his recovery was amazingly rapid. Before Perris had
ceased wondering at the first audible breath the eyes of Alcatraz were
lighted with flickering intelligence; then a snort of terror showed
that he realized his nearness to the Great Enemy. His very panic acted
as a thrillingly powerful restorative. By the time Perris got weakly
to his feet, Alcatraz was lunging up the river bank scattering gravel
and small rocks behind him.

And Perris made no attempt to throw the rope again. He allowed it to
lie limp and wet on the gravel, but turning to watch that magnificent
body, shining from the river, he saw the lines of Hervey's hunters
coming swinging across the plain, riding to the limit of the speed of
their horses.

This was the end, then. In ten minutes, or less, they would be on him,
and he without a gun in his hands!

As though he saw the same approaching line of riders, Alcatraz whirled
on the edge of the sand, but he did not turn to flee. Instead, he
lifted his head and turned his bright eyes