.

He slept for, perhaps, an hour. At the end of that time he suddenly
became wide awake. He could not have told what had aroused him, but he
was sure something had. He threw back the smothering blanket from his
head and lay listening.

Overhead the wind threshed the tops of the trees, and roared hollowly
as it rebounded from the farther side of the gulch. Rain, driven by the
wind, slashed through the foliage and pattered against his primitive
shelter. Thunder rolled in an endless fusillade, punctuated by flashes
of lightning. But Sandy, without considering the matter, was quite sure
that none of these things had awakened him. In a momentary lull of the
storm, as he lay with his ear close to the ground, he thought he could
hear the sound of hoofs coming up the draw, along the hard-beaten
cattle trail.

It was barely possible that some wandering stock, drifting with the
storm, were seeking the shelter of it; but it was more likely that
range stock would have found cover to suit them before dark, and would
stay in it till morning. Now, there is a difference between the tread
of ridden and riderless animals, and Sandy thought that he had heard
the former. Also, they were coming as he had come.

His route led from the settlements back to the hills where there was
nobody and nothing. There was no road, no trail. Few people went there,
not even Indians, and they not until the fall hunt, after the first
snow. Therefore, it was suspicious that, on such a night, a rider or
riders should be in his vicinity. His mind leaped to the conclusion
that Glass had been released, had secured the services of somebody who
knew the country, and had somehow made a good guess at the location of
his first night's camp, for which they were now searching in the
darkness, hoping that the remains of his fire would betray him.

As he reached this conclusion, Sandy rolled out of his blankets,
buckled his belt around his lean waist, slipped on his moccasins, and
stepped out into the darkness.

Not a red spark showed where his fire had been, and Sandy smiled
grimly. He would do all the surprising himself. He did not intend to be
taken. Once more he heard the sound of hoofs, nearer. They seemed to
approach a few yards, then to stop. He heard the sound of a breath
blown from a horse's nostrils.

The storm, which had lulled momentarily, began again. The wind hit
the draw viciously, with spatters of rain. Other sounds were
indistinguishable. Sandy,