own
accord and stretched herself for the race.

He understood. She had recognized the possibility of company; and few
horses, whatever their temper, can resist that.

He leaned over and patted her shoulder, easing her of his weight like
a jockey.

"Now, you she-devil," he murmured affectionately, "behave yourself for
once, and go--go like the fiend you are!"

CHAPTER XXII

THE PURSUIT OF RED MASK

A mile start; it would seem an impossible advantage. Even with a far
better horse in pursuit, how many miles must be covered before that
distance could be made up? Could the lost ground be regained in eight
miles? It looked to be out of the question even to Tresler, hopeful of
his mare as he was, and knowing her remarkable turn of speed. Yet such
proved to be the case. Eight miles saw him so close on the heels of
the raider that there was nothing left for the fugitive but to keep
on.

He felt no surprise that they were traversing the river trail. He even
thought he knew how he could head his man off by a short cut. But this
would not serve his purpose. He wanted to get him red-handed, and to
leave him now would be to give him a chance that he was confident
would be taken advantage of at once. The river trail led to the ranch.
And the only branches anywhere along its route were those running
north and south at the ford.

Steadily he closed up, foot by foot, yard by yard. Sometimes he saw
his quarry, sometimes he was only guided by the beat of the speeding
hoofs. Now that he was urging her, the Lady Jezebel had relinquished
the bit, not only willing, but bursting to do better than her best.
No rider could resist such an appeal. And as they went Tresler found
himself talking to her with an affection that would have sounded
ridiculous to any but a horseman. It made him smile to see her ears
laid back, not in the manner of a horse putting forth its last
efforts, but with that vicious air she always had, as though she were
running open-mouthed at Jacob Smith, as he had seen her do in the
corral on his introduction to her.

When they came to the river ford he was a bare hundred yards in the
wake of his man. Here the road turned off for the ranch, and the trees
met overhead and shut out the light of the moon. It was pitch black,
and he was only guided by the sound of the other horse in front.
Abreast of the ford he became aware that this sound had abruptly died
out, and at the bend of the trail he pulled up and li