"On, Old Jack, on! Look, we gain now, but we must gain more. Show to
them what a horse you are!"

And again the great horse responded. Fast as he was going it seemed to
Ned that he now lengthened his stride. His long head was thrust out
almost straight, and his great body fairly skimmed the earth. But the
Mexicans hung on with grim tenacity. Their ponies were tough and
enduring, and, spread out like the arc of a bow, they continually
profited by some divergence that Old Jack made from the straight line.
Aware of this danger Ned himself, nevertheless, was unable to tell
whether the horse was going in a direct course, and he let him have his
head.

"Crack!" went a musket, and a bullet sang past Ned's face. It grazed Old
Jack's ear, drawing blood. The horse uttered an angry snort and fairly
leaped forward. Ned looked back again. Another man had succeeded in
loading his musket and was about to fire. Then the boy remembered the
pistol at his belt. Snatching it out he fired at the fellow with the
loaded musket.

The Mexican reeled forward on his horse's neck and his weapon dropped to
the ground. Whether the man himself fell also Ned never knew, because he
quickly thrust the pistol back in his belt and once more was looking
straight ahead. Now confidence swelled again in his heart. He had
escaped all their bullets so far, and he was still gaining. He would
escape all the others and he would continue to gain.

He saw just ahead of him one of the clumps of trees that dotted the
plain, but, although it might give momentary protection from the bullets
he was afraid to gallop into it, lest he be swept from his horse's back
by the boughs or bushes. But his direct course would run close to the
left side of it, and once more he sought to urge Old Jack to greater
speed.

The horse was still running without a jar. Ned could not feel a single
rough movement in the perfect machinery beneath him. Unless wounded Old
Jack would not fail him. He stole another of those fleeting glances
backward.

Several of the Mexicans, their ponies spent, were dropping out of the
race, but enough were left to make the odds far too great. Ned now
skimmed along the edge of the grove, and when he passed it he turned his
horse a little, so the trees were between him and his nearest pursuers.
Then he urged Old Jack to his last ounce of speed. The plain raced
behind him, and fortunate clouds, too, now came, veiling the moon and
turning the dusk into deeper