“What’s his hurry?” demanded Lucy.  “After climbing out of that canyon Joel ought not to push the horses.”

“He’ll git it from me if there’s no reason,” growled Creech.  “Them hosses is wet.”

“Look at Sarch!  He’s wild.  He always hated Joel.”

“Wal, Lucy, I reckon I ain’t likin’ this hyar.  Look at Joel!” muttered Creech, and he strode out to meet his son.

Lucy ran out too, and beyond him.  She saw only Sage King.  He saw her, recognized her, and, whistled even while Joel was pulling him in.  For once the King showed he was glad to see Lucy.  He had been having rough treatment.  But he was not winded—­only hot and wet.  She assured herself of that, then ran to quiet the plunging Sarch.  He came down at once, and pushed his big nose almost into her face.  She hugged his great, hot neck.  He was quivering all over.  Lucy heard the other horses pounding up; she recognized Two Face’s high whinny, like a squeal; and in her delight she was about to run to them when Creech’s harsh voice arrested her.  And sight of Joel’s face suddenly made her weak.

“What’d you say?” demanded Creech.

“I’d a good reason to run the hosses up-hill—­thet’s what!” snapped Joel.  He was frothing at the mouth.

“Out with it!”

“Cordts an’ Hutch!”

“What?” roared Creech, grasping the pale Joel and shaking him.

“Cordts an’ Hutch rode in behind me down at thet cross canyon.  They seen me.  An’ they’re after me hard!”

Creech gave close and keen scrutiny to the strange face of his son.  Then he wheeled away.

“Help me pack.  An’ you, too, Lucy.  We’ve got to rustle out of hyar.”

Lucy fought a sick faintness that threatened to make her useless.  But she tried to help, and presently action made her stronger.

The Creeches made short work of that breaking of camp.  But when it came to getting the horses there appeared danger of delay.  Sarchedon had led Dusty Ben and Two Face off in the grass.  When Joel went for them they galloped away toward the woods.  Joel ran back.

“Son, you’re a smart hossman!” exclaimed Creech, in disgust.

“Shall I git on the King an’ ketch them?”

“No.  Hold the King.”  Creech went out after Plume, but the excited and wary horse eluded him.  Then Creech gave up, caught his own mustangs, and hurried into camp.

“Lucy, if Cordts gits after Sarch an’ the others it’ll be as well fer us,” he said.

Soon they were riding into the forest, Creech leading, Lucy in the center, and Joel coming behind on the King.  Two unsaddled mustangs carrying the packs were driven in front.  Creech limited the gait to the best that the pack-horses could do.  They made fast time.  The level forest floor, hard and springy, afforded the best kind of going.