Wildfire’s sudden break and upflinging of head and his snort preceded the crack of a rifle.  Slone knew he had been shot at, although he neither felt nor heard the bullet.  He had no chance to see where the shot came from, for Wildfire bolted, and needed as much holding and guiding as Slone could give.  He ran a mile.  Then Slone was able to look about him.  Had he been shot at from above or behind?  He could not tell.  It did not matter, so long as the danger was not in front.  He kept a sharp lookout, and presently along the right canyon rim, five hundred feet above him, he saw a bay horse, and a rider with a rifle.  He had been wrong, then, about these riders and their weapons.  Slone did not see any wisdom in halting to shoot up at this pursuer, and he spurred Wildfire just as a sharp crack sounded above.  The bullet thudded into the earth a few feet behind him.  And then over bad ground, with the stallion almost unmanageable, Slone ran a gantlet of shots.  Evidently the man on the rim had smooth ground to ride over, for he easily kept abreast of Slone.  But he could not get the range.  Fortunately for Slone, broken ramparts above checked the tricks of that pursuer, and Slone saw no more of him.

It afforded him great relief to find that Creech’s trail turned into a canyon on the left; and here, with the sun already low, Slone began to watch the clumps of cedars and the jumbles of rock.  But he was not ambushed.  Darkness set in, and, being tired out, he was about to halt for the night when he caught the flicker of a campfire.  The stallion saw it, too, but did not snort.  Slone dismounted and, leading him, went cautiously forward on foot, rifle in hand.

The canyon widened at a point where two breaks occurred, and the less-restricted space was thick with cedar and pinyon.  Slone could tell by the presence of these trees and also by a keener atmosphere that he was slowly getting to a higher attitude.  This camp-fire must belong to Cordts or the one man who had gone on ahead.  And Slone advanced boldly.  He did not have to make up his mind what to do.

But he was amazed to see several dark forms moving to and fro before the bright camp-fire, and he checked himself abruptly.  Considering a moment, Slone thought he had better have a look at these fellows.  So he tied Wildfire and, taking to the darker side of the canyon, he stole cautiously forward.

The distance was considerable, as he had calculated.  Soon, however, he made out the shadowy outlines of horses feeding in the open.  He hugged the canyon wall for fear they might see him.  As luck would have it the night breeze was in his favor.  Stealthily he stole on, in the deep shadow of the wall, and under the cedars, until he came to a point opposite the camp-fire, and then he turned toward it.  He went slowly, carefully, noiselessly, and at last he crawled through the narrow aisles between thick sage-brush.  Another clump of cedars loomed up, and he saw the flickering of firelight upon the pale-green foliage.