ed.
And, in consequence, he knew that the man, or men who had fired those
shots were there, beyond the rise.

[Illustration: Also he was gripping a heavy revolver in his hand.]

He waited. Suddenly a moving speck broke the sky-line. Momentarily it
grew larger. Now it was sufficiently silhouetted for him to recognize
it. A horseman was coming toward him, racing as hard as spurs could
drive the beast under him.

Just for a moment he wondered. Then he glanced swiftly round at the
river behind him. Yes, the river. This man was riding from the hills.
And he understood in a flash. He was pursued. The hounds had him out
in the open. The only shelter for miles around was the sparse bush at
the riverside, and--the river itself. His interest became excitement,
and a sudden wild hope. He now searched the horizon behind the man.
There was not a soul in sight--and yet--those two shots.

But the situation suddenly became critical for himself. He realized
that the fugitive had seen him. From a low bending attitude over his
horse's neck the man had suddenly sat erect. Also he was gripping a
heavy revolver in his hand.

Suddenly a further excitement stirred the waiting man. As the fugitive
sat up he recognized him. It was Will Henderson.

He was still a hundred yards away, but the distance was rapidly
narrowing. At fifty yards he, Jim, would be well within range, and the
memory of those two shots warned him that the revolver in the
horseman's hand was no sort of bluff. It meant business, sure enough,
and his own identity was not in the least likely to add to his safety.
He must convey his peaceful intentions at once.

It was difficult. He dared not shout. He knew how the voice traveled
over the plains. Suddenly he remembered. He was one of the few prairie
men who still clung to the white handkerchief of civilization. He drew
one out of his pocket. It was anything but clean, but it would serve.
Throwing up both arms he waved it furiously at the man. This he did
three times. Then, dropping it to the ground, he held up both hands in
the manner of a prairie surrender.

There was a moment of anxious waiting, then, to his relief, he saw
Will head his hard blowing horse in his direction. But still retaining
his hold of his pistol, he came on. And in those few moments before he
reached him Jim had an opportunity of close observation.

First he saw that the horse was nearly done. Evidently the chase had
been, if short, at least a hard