d that they had
no intention of following Sterry, since the course taken by him was
almost directly the opposite; but Whitney was not fully satisfied. He
remained in front of his home, listening in the stillness of the night
to the sounds made by the hoofs of the galloping horses.

Gradually they grew fainter, until, had there been any air stirring,
or had the tension of hearing been less, he would have heard nothing;
but, when the noises were hovering close to inaudibility, they
continued thus. They neither increased nor diminished, but remaining
the same, steadily shifted the direction whence they came.

Instead of keeping to the westward, as they had been for a long
time, they worked around to the north and east. Then the decrease in
distinctness of sound was so rapid that it was quickly lost.

The truth was evident: the rustlers had started in pursuit of Sterry,
though why they should have taken so much pains to conceal the fact
from Fred Whitney was more than he could understand.

"They may overtake him," thought the young man as he turned to enter
the house, "but it will not be right away."

A light foot-fall sounded in the darkness of the room.

"Is that you, Jennie?" he asked in a guarded undertone.

"Yes, brother; have they gone?"

"Some time ago. Is mother asleep?"

"She was asleep before they came, utterly worn out. I am glad she
knows nothing of the cause of their visit. And what of Monteith?"

"He is many miles away, and still riding hard."

"Will they pursue him?"

"Let them do so if they wish, they will have a fine time overtaking
him," was the light reply of the brother, who, leaning over in the
gloom, affectionately kissed his sister good-night.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE BURNED RANCH.

Meanwhile Monteith Sterry was making the best of his opportunity.

It was no great exploit for him to slip out of the back door, when he
found his enemies gathering in front; but, had he not been convinced
that the movement was in the interests of his friends, as well as
himself, he would not have made it.

His flight was at a moderate pace for several hundred yards, by which
time he considered himself safe from pursuit and gave his mare free
rein. Her speed was rapid, but she was capable of maintaining it for
hours without fatigue.

Sterry's intention was to make his way to the ranch of his friend,
Dick Hawkridge, which lay to the westward. He began veering in that
direction, so that it may be sai