stirred. Dick heard his heart still pounding. The unseen pursuit--he had
no doubt it was there--was becoming a terrible strain upon his nerves.
The perspiration ran down his face, and he sought with angry eyes for a
sight of the fellow who presumed to hang upon his tracks.

He began to wonder what he would do when the night came. There would be
no rest, no sleep for him, even in the darkness. Twice he curved from
his course and hid in the undergrowth to see his pursuer come up, but
there was nothing. Then he reasoned with himself. He had not really seen
the flitting figure of a man. It was merely the effect of an alarmed
imagination, and he told himself to ride straight on, looking ahead, not
back. But reason again yielded to instinct and he curved once more into
the deep forest, where the tangle of vines and undergrowth also was so
thick that it would take a keen eye to find him.

Dick looked back along the path which he had come and he was confident
that he saw some of the tall bushes shake a little. It could not be
wind, because the air was absolutely still, and soon he was convinced
that his instinct had been right all the time. Fancy had played him no
trick and the shadow that he had seen was a human figure.

He felt with all the force of conviction that he was in great danger,
but he did not know what to do. So he did nothing, but sat quietly on
his horse among the bushes. The heat was intense there and innumerable
flies, gnats, and mosquitoes assailed him. The mosquitoes were so fierce
that they drew blood from his face a half-dozen times.

Alone in the heat of the deep marshy wilderness he felt fear more than
in battle. Danger threatened here in a mysterious, invisible fashion and
he could only wait.

He saw a bush move again, but much nearer, and then came the crack of
a rifle. If his horse, alarmed perhaps, had not thrown up his head
suddenly, and received the bullet himself the lad's career would have
ended there.

The horse made a convulsive leap, then staggered for a few seconds,
giving his rider time to spring clear, and fell among the bushes.
Dick dropped down behind him and quickly unstrapped the rifle from the
saddle, meaning to use the animal's body as a breastwork against renewed
attack.

His fear, the kind of fear that the bravest feel, had been driven away
by rage. The killing of his innocent horse, although the bullet was
intended for him, angered him as much as if he had received a wound