t pack piled off
any which way, and no saddles. Then he'll know, but he won't know what
to do. He'll think we're for Old Mexico, but he won't know it for sure.
And it's too dark to track us. Oh, my stars, but I bet he'll be mad!"

* * * * *

Which shows that we all make mistakes. Mr. Griffith, though young, was
of firm character, as has been lightly intimated. He waited a reasonable
time to allow for paper-reading, then he waited a little longer and
shouted; but when there was no answer he knew at once precisely what had
happened: he had not been a fool at all, whatever Steele and Bransford
had assured him, and he was a bigger fool to have allowed himself to be
persuaded that he had been. It is true that he didn't know what was best
to do, but he knew exactly what he was going to do--and did it promptly.
Seriously annoyed, he spurred through Double Mountain, gathered up Stone
and Harlow, and followed the southward road. Bransford had been on the
way to Old Mexico--he was on that road still; Griffith put everything on
the one bold cast. While the others saddled he threw fresh fuel on the
fire, with a rankling memory of the candle in the deserted tent and
Hannibal at Saint Jo. For the first time Griffith had the better of the
long battle of wits. That armful of fuel slowed Jeff from gallop to
trot, turned assured victory into a doubtful contest; when the fugitives
regained the El Paso road Griffith's vindictive little band was not five
miles behind them.

The night was lightly clouded--not so dark but that the pursuers
noticed--or thought they noticed--the fresh tracks in the road when they
came to them. They stopped, struck matches and confirmed their hopes:
two shod horses going south at a smart gait; the dirt was torn up too
much for travelers on their lawful occasions. From that moment Griffith
urged the chase unmercifully; the fleeing couple, in fancied security,
lost ground with every mile.

* * * * *

"How on earth did you manage it? Didn't they know you?" demanded Gibson
as the pace slackened.

"It wasn't me! It was Tobe Long! 'You may not have lived much under the
sea, and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster,'" quoted
Jeff. Rocking in the saddle, he gave a mirthful resume of his little
evanishment. "And, oh, just think of that candle burning away in that
quiet, empty tent! If I could have seen Griffith's face!" he gloated.
"Oh me