rabbit crossed a ridge; and when the rider reined upon the top, the
jack was no more seen.

But just ahead was a finer sight. A band of antelope sprang forward with
their white sterns shining. Of all the quadrupeds on the Plains, the
antelope is the speediest. The greyhound can catch the hare; but is left
a hopeless laggard by the swift-footed courser. No mounted Indian ever
dreamed of overtaking the antelope in open chase. In speed it stands the
highest in the West. Jim had often wished to match his steed against
these plains-born coursers; but, hitherto, although antelope were often
seen, they were protected by rough gullies or boulders or badger holes.
A band of antelope on a level, open stretch was a glorious chance.

Bending low over his horse's neck, he shouted: "Now, Blazing Star, go
it; ho! boy, go it!" and struck the flank behind for clear
interpretation. The horse sprang forth at speed. The bounding wild
things, just ahead, laid back their ears and went so fast that not a leg
was seen, only a whizzing, blurred maze. And Blazing Star took in the
thought and travelled faster and faster. The furlong start they had
began to shrink.

"Good boy!" the rider shouted in elation. "Go it! go it, Blazing Star!"
The antelope spurted--for a moment held their own; then, weakening at a
mile, they lost so fast that Jim yelled and swung his hat, and in a
little more the herd was overtaken. Fear seemed to rob them of power as
Blazing Star dashed in among them. The bright-eyed pronghorns swerved;
and the band split wide, and the horse dashed through. As he wheeled and
galloped back, he shouted: "You saw that, Belle? You saw it? It has
never been done before. In a fair race, on open stretch, they had two
hundred yards' start and I caught them in a mile. Now I know what
Blazing Star is. No creature on legs can beat him; no horse in the West
can match him."

In a little while the riders turned again to Cedar Mountain. Hartigan
led the way--and the talk. It was a stirring ride, but Belle's face wore
a worried look when he left her.

CHAPTER XXX

The Fire

Every new town in America has the same set routine of experience. It
springs up on land selected and laid out by a real estate speculator.
The flimsiest and most combustible of buildings are rushed up. When the
town has about five thousand inhabitants and these fire-trap buildings
are close enough to burn one another, a fire breaks out and sweeps the
whole thing awa