ther's just the fact
your plug is stone cold between you an' a rawhide rope. You jest
couldn't be the man we're chasin' 'less you're capable o' miracles.
Get me? But I'm goin' to do some straight talk. Not more than ten
minutes gone the feller we're after shot down one o' the boys back
ther' over the rise. That boy was on a fast hoss, an' was close on
that all-fired Dago's heels. Wal, he got it plenty, an' we're goin'
back to bury that honest citizen later. Meanwhiles, ten minutes gone
that rustler got down here, an' as you say, made that river, an'
you--you didn't see him. Get me? You're jest goin' to show me wher'
you sat."

For a second Jim's heart seemed to stand still. He was not used to
lying. However, he realized only too well how the least hesitation
would surely hang him, and he promptly nodded his head.

"Sure I will. Come right along." And he led the way diagonally from
the horseman's tracks, so as to strike the river obliquely.

It was a silent procession, and the air was charged with possible
disaster. Jim walked ahead, his horse hanging back and being urged
forward by no very gentle kicks from Smallbones.

And as he walked he thought hard. He was struggling to remember a
likely spot. He dare not choose one where grass lay under foot. These
men had eyes like hawks for a spot on such ground. There was only one
underlay where their eyes could be fooled, and that was under the
shelter of a pine tree, where the pine-needles prevented impress and
yielded no trace of footsteps. Was there such a spot near by? He
vaguely remembered a small cluster of such trees beside his track, but
he couldn't remember how far away it lay. He knew he must take a big
risk.

He did not hesitate, and, though slowly, he walked deliberately in a
definite direction, winding in and out the bush. Then to his intense
relief, after about five minutes' walking, he saw the trees he was
looking for. Yes, they were right in his track, and he remembered now
skirting them as he came along. But he was not yet clear of trouble by
any means. What was the underlay like?

He avoided giving any sign of his destination. That was most
important. And he was fearful lest he should be questioned. He knew
the shrewdness of the redoubtable doctor, and he feared it. He was on
his own track now, which showed plain enough in the grass. And as he
came to the clump of pines he still kept on until he had practically
passed it. He did this purposely. It was