ltered his course a little--he could not swerve much without
approaching Stanton--and for a few minutes Curtis shortened the distance
between them. Then his horse began to flag; it looked as if Glover might
escape, after all, though he must still draw nearer to the trooper before
he got away.

Curtis, roughly calculating speed and distance, pulled up his horse.
Springing from the saddle, he flung himself down in the snow, and for a
few seconds gripped his carbine tight. Then there was a flash and little
spirts of snow leaped up one after another ahead of the outlaw. Curtis
pressed down the rear sight and fired again; but Glover was still riding
hard, with Stanton dropping behind him. At the third shot Glover's horse
went down in a struggling heap, hiding its rider. A few moments later the
man reappeared, and began to run, but he stopped as Stanton came down on
him at a gallop, and Curtis got up hastily. Glover made a sign of
submission, and the next minute Stanton sprang to the ground beside him.

"Hold up your hands!" he ordered sharply, and there was a clink as the
irons snapped to.

After that the trooper turned to Curtis, who was hurrying toward them.

"Lend me your carbine; mine's clean."

He walked to the fallen horse, which was struggling feebly, and, stooping
down he examined it. Then there was a crash and a puff of smoke, and he
rejoined the corporal.

"Nothing else that could be done," he explained.

Curtis spoke to the prisoner.

"Come along. You had better not try to break away."

They went back to the homestead where they found Jepson waiting for them.
He looked disturbed.

"I told you he wasn't here," he said. "How was I to know he was hiding in
the ravine?"

Curtis gave him a searching glance.

"We'll consider that later. I want your team and wagon, some blankets,
and driving-robes."

"Am I bound to outfit the police?"

"I guess you had better. Your record's none too good."

He led his prisoner into the kitchen, where the stove was burning, and,
laying his carbine on the table, he loosed the handcuffs and bade the man
take off his long coat.

"Go through his pockets, Stanton," he said.

The trooper did as he was told, but nothing of any importance was
produced. The man was not armed, and there were only a few silver coins
and bills for small amounts in his possession. Curtis stood wearily,
regarding him with a thoughtful smile.

"Where did you get that jacket, Glover?" he asked.