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which he had tied the lasso。 In the gloom he could not see it； and when he
reached out he did not feel it。 Wildfire was gone！ Slone sank down； overcome。
He cursed what must have been carelessness； though he knew he never was
careless with a horse。 What had happened？ He did not know。 But Wildfire was
goneand that meant Lucy's doom and his！ Slone shook with cold。
Then； as he leaned against the stump； wet and shaking； familiar sound met his
ears。 It was made by the teeth of a grazing horsea slight； keen； tearing
cut。 Wildfire was close at hand！ With a sweep Slone circled the stump and he
found the knot of the lasso。 He had missed it。 He began to gather in the long
rope； and soon felt the horse。 In the black gloom against the wall Slone could
not distinguish Wild…fire。
〃Whew！〃 he muttered； wiping the sweat off his face。 〃Good Lord！ 。 。 。 All for
nothin'。〃
It did not take Slone long to decide to lead the horse and work up the canyon
past the campers。 He must get ahead of them； and once there he had no fear of
them； either by night or day。 He really had no hopes of getting by
undiscovered； and all he wished for was to get far enough so that he could not
be intercepted。 The grazing horses would scent Wildfire or he would scent
them。
For a wonder Wildfire allowed himself to be led as well as if he had been old；
faithful Nagger。 Slone could not keep close in to the wall for very long； on
account of the cedars； but he managed to stay in the outer edge of shadow cast
by the wall。 Wildfire winded the horses； halted； threw up his head。 But for
some reason beyond Slone the horse did not snort or whistle。 As he knew
Wildfire he could have believed him intelligent enough and hateful enough to
betray his master。
It was one of the other horses that whistled an alarm。 This came at a point
almost even with the camp…fire。 Slone； holding Wildfire down； had no time to
get into a stirrup； but leaped to the saddle and let the horse go。 There were
hoarse yells and then streaks of fire and shots。 Slone heard the whizz of
heavy bullets； and he feared for Wildfire。 But the horse drew swiftly away
into the darkness。 Slone could not see whether the ground was smooth or
broken； and he left that to Wildfire。 Luck favored them； and presently Slone
pulled him in to a safe gait； and regretted only that he had not had a chance
to take a shot at that camp。
Slone walked the horse for an hour； and then decided that he could well risk a
halt for the night。
Before dawn he was up； warming his chilled body by violent movements； and
forcing himself to eat。
The rim of the west wall changed from gray to pink。 A mocking…bird burst into
song。 A coyote sneaked away from the light of day。 Out in the open Slone found
the trail made by Creech's mustangs and by the horse of Cordts's man。 The
latter could not be very far ahead。 In less than an hour Slone came to a clump
of cedars where this man had camped。 An hour behind him！
This canyon was open； with a level and narrow floor divided by a deep wash。
Slone put Wildfire to a gallop。 The narrow wash was no obstacle to Wildfire；
he did not have to be urged or checked。 It was not long before Slone saw a
horseman a quarter of a mile ahead； and he was discovered almost at the same
time。 This fellow showed both surprise and fear。 He ran his horse。 But in
comparison with Wildfire that horse seemed sluggish。 Slone would have caught
up with him very soon but for a change in the lay of the land。 The canyon
split up and all of its gorges and ravines and washes headed upon the
pine…fringed plateau； now only a few miles distant。 The gait of the horses had
to be reduced to a trot； and then a walk。 The man Slone was after left
Creech's trail and took to a side cleft。 Slone； convinced he would soon
overhaul him； and then return to take up Creech's trail； kept on in pursuit。
Then Slone was compelled to climb。 Wildfire was so superior to the other's
horse； and Slone was so keen at choosing ground and short cuts； that he would
have been right upon him but for a split in the rock which suddenly yawned
across his path。 It was impassable。 After a quick glance Slone abandoned the
direct pursuit； and； turning along this gulch； he gained a point where the
horse…thief would pass under the base of the rim…wall； and here Slone would
have him within easy rifle shot。
And the man； intent on getting out of the canyon； rode into the trap；
approaching to within a hundred yards of Slone； who suddenly showed himself on
foot； rifle in hand。 The deep gulch was a barrier to Slone's further progress；
but his rifle dominated the situation。
〃Hold on！〃 he called； warningly。
〃Hold on yerself！〃 yelled the other； aghast； as he halted his horse。 He gazed
down and evidently was quick to take in the facts。
Slone had meant to kill this man without even a word； yet now when the moment
had come a feeling almost of sickness clouded his resolve。 But he leveled the
rifle。
〃I got it on you；〃 he called。
〃Reckon you hev。 But see hyar〃
〃I can hit you anywhere。〃
〃Wal； I'll take yer word fer thet。〃
〃All right。 Now talk fast。 。 。 。 Are you one of Cordts's gang？〃
〃Sure。〃
〃Why are you alone？〃
〃We split down hyar。〃
〃Did you know I was on this trail？〃
〃Nope。 I didn't sure； or you'd never ketched me； red hoss or no。〃
〃Who were you trailin'？〃
〃Ole Creech an' the girl he kidnapped。〃
Slone felt the leap of his blood and the jerk it gave the rifle as his tense
finger trembled on the trigger。
〃Girl。 。 。 。 What girl？〃 he called； hoarsely。
〃Bostil's girl。〃
〃Why did Cordts split on the trail？〃
〃He an' Hutch went round fer some more of the gang； an' to head off Joel
Creech when he comes in with Bostil's hosses。〃
Slone was amazed to find how the horse thieves had calculated； yet； on second
thought； the situation； once the Creeches had been recognized； appeared simple
enough。
〃What was your game？〃 he demanded。
〃I was follerin' Creech jest to find out where he'd hole up with the girl。〃
〃What's Cordts's gameAFTER he heads Joel Creech？〃
〃Then he's goin' fer the girl。〃
Slone scarcely needed to be told all this； but the deliberate words from the
lips of one of Cordts's gang bore a raw； brutal proof of Lucy's peril。 And yet
Slone could not bring himself to kill this man in cold blood。 He tried； but in
vain。
〃Have you got a gun？〃 called Slone； hoarsely。
〃Sure。〃
〃Ride back the other way！ 。 。 。 If you don't lose me I'll kill you！〃
The man stared。 Slone saw the color return to his pale face。 Then he turned
his horse and rode back out of sight。 Slone heard him rolling the stones down
the long； rough slope； and when he felt sure the horse…thief had gotten a fair
start he went back to mount Wildfire in pursuit。
This trailer of Lucy never got back to Lucy's trailnever got away。
But Slone； when that day's hard； deadly pursuit ended； found himself lost in
the canyons。 How bitterly he cursed both his weakness in not shooting the man
at sight； and his strength in following him with implacable purpose！ For to be
fair； to give the horse…thief a chance for his life； Slone had lost Lucy's
trail。 The fact nearly distracted him。 He spent a sleepless night of torture。
All next day； like a wild man； he rode and climbed and descended； spurred by
one purpose； pursued by suspense and dread。 That night he tied Wildfire near
water and grass and fell into the sleep of exhaustion。
Morning came。 But with it no hope。 He had been desperate。 And now he was in a
frightful state。 It seemed that days and days had passed； and nights that were
hideous with futile nightmares。
He rode down into a canyon with sloping walls； and broken； like all of these
canyons under the great plateau。 Every canyon resembled another。 The upland
was one vast network。 The world seemed a labyrinth of canyons among which he
was hopelessly lost。 What wouldwhat had become of Lucy？ Every thought in his
whirling brain led back to thatand it was terrible。
Thenhe was gazing transfixed down upon the familiar tracks left by Creech's
mustangs。 Days old； but still unfollowed！
CHAPTER XIX
That track led up the narrowing canyon to its head at the base of the plateau。
Slone； mindful of his horse； climbed on foot； halting at the zigzag turns to
rest。 A long； gradually ascending trail mounted the last slope； which when
close at hand was not so precipitous as it appeared from below。 Up there the
wind； sucked out of the canyons； swooped and twisted hard。
At last Slone led Wildfire over the rim and halted for another
breathing…spell。 Before him was a beautiful； gently sloping stretch of waving
grass leading up to the dark pine forest from which came a roar of wind。
Beneath Slone the wild and whorled canyon breaks extended； wonderful in
thousands of denuded surfaces； gold and red and yellow； with the smoky depths
between。
Wildfire sniffed the wind and snorted。 Slone turned； instantly alert。 The wild
horse had given an alarm。 Like a flash Slone leaped into the saddle。 A faint
cry； away from the wind； startled Slone。 It was like a cry he had heard in
dreams。 How overstrained his perceptions！ He was not really sure of anything；
yet on the instant he was tense。