And now as he rode swiftly in pursuit Drummond was thinking over the incidents of that delightful voyage, and marvelling at the strange fate that had brought the Harvey girls again into his life and under circumstances so thrilling.  Never for an instant would he doubt that before the sun could reach meridian he should overtake and rescue them from the hands of their cowardly captors.  Never would he entertain the thought of sustained defence on part of the outlaw band.  Full of high contempt for such cattle, he argued that no sooner were they assured that the cavalry were close at their heels than most of their number would scatter for their lives, leaving Pasqual to his fate, and probably abandoning the wagons and their precious contents on the road.  A sudden dash, a surprise, would insure success.  The only fear he had was that in the excitement of attack some harm might befall those precious lives.  To avert this he gave orders to be passed back along the column to fire no shot until they had closed with the band, and then to be most careful to aim wide of the wagons.  Every man in the little troop well knew how much was at stake, and men, all mercy to their beasts at other times, were now plying the cruel spur.

Five, six o’clock had come and gone.  The chase was still out of sight ahead, yet every moment seemed to bring them closer upon their heels.  At every bend of the tortuous trail the leader’s eye was strained to see the dust-cloud rising ahead.  But jutting point and rolling shoulder of bluff or hill-side ever interposed.  Drummond had just glanced at his watch for perhaps the twentieth time since daybreak and was replacing it in his pocket when an exclamation from Sergeant Meinecke startled him.

“Look at Lee!”

The head of column, moving at the moment at a walk to rest the panting horses, had just turned a rocky knoll and was following the trail into a broader reach of the canon, which now seemed opening out to the west.  Instead of keeping in the bottom as heretofore, the wagon-track now followed a gentle ascent and disappeared over a spur four hundred yards ahead.  Here Lee had suddenly flung himself from his horse, thrown the reins to Patterson, and, crouching behind a bowlder, was gazing eagerly to the front, while with hat in hand he was signalling “Slow; keep down.”  Up went Drummond’s gauntlet in the well-known cavalry signal “Halt.”  Then, bidding Meinecke dismount the men and reset blankets and saddles, the young officer gave “Chester” rein and was soon kneeling by the side of his trusty subordinate.

Lee said no word at all, simply pointed ahead.