THE LONG CHASE
“Frank, you don’t think it’s going to storm, do you?” asked Bob, a
little later.
At that the other laughed aloud.
“Oh! I see what’s on your mind, old fellow!” he exclaimed. “You’re
thinking of what happened to us when we were lost on Thunder
Mountain, and a cloudburst came near catching us in the canyon. But
no such danger here, Bob.”
“Well, I’m glad of that, anyhow,” retorted the other; “because I’m
not extra fond of storms myself; and down here in this queer country
they carry on in a way I’m not used to. But suppose dark comes down
on us, as you say it’s bound to do soon, and we’re still a long
distance behind those fellows—what then?”
“Mr. Riley will have to decide,” returned Frank, willing that an
older head than his should take the lead in such an emergency.
“But if we don’t see the rascals, how can we keep after ’em?”
persisted Bob.
“Oh! well, we might get a general idea of how they were heading all
the time, and keep pushing on, in hopes we would overtake ’em sooner
or later. The chances would be slim, of course; but anything is
better than lying idle. But wait till Mr. Riley makes up his mind.”
As they rode on, the sun vanished from view. Night would come upon
them more quickly than usual on account of those gathering clouds.
“We seem to keep gaining all the time, Frank,” remarked Bob, after
another fifteen minutes had passed.
“That’s a fact,” replied his chum; “and it makes me feel bad because
I don’t happen to be an up-to-date Joshua, so I could hold the sun
still for an hour more, up in the Western sky. Given that much time,
and we’d overhaul ’em, dead sure.”
“I reckon we would,” declared Bob, “because even a greenhorn like
myself can see how one of those horses has a little limp; and the
other is forced to hold back to keep him company. Well, it’s been a
lively chase, anyway, even if we don’t overtake the fellows. We’re
given ’em a bad scare, and that’s one consolation.”
They kept pushing on steadily over the plains as the minutes crept
past.
“It’s a great pity our horses were stale after an all day ride, when
this thing started out,” remarked Bob.
“That’s what I was saying to myself a little bit ago,” Frank replied.
“If it had been morning, now,” the Kentucky boy sighed, “with
Buckskin and Domino fresh, wouldn’t we just eat up the ground,
though, and climb after those fellows? Why, we’d leave that big bay
of Mr. Riley’s out of sight.”
“Sure thing,” added Frank; “why, even as it is, we hold our own with
the bay; and he was fresh to start with.”
This gave Bob more or less consolation. Anything that stamped his pet
as a horse of unusual quality, was sure to give him pleasure.
“I’ve lost ’em, Frank!” he called out, some little time later, after
he had been straining his eyes to the limit in the endeavor to make
out the moving figures ahead.
“And _I_ expect to very soon now,” his chum answered, bending forward
in the saddle while speaking, as though he dared not remove his gaze
for even one second from the dimly-seen objects beyond.
“Gone!” called Mr. Riley, still ahead of the others.
None of them drew up. Frank believed he could still see the
fugitives. One of them happened to be mounted on a gray horse, and
this moving object held in view even after the darker animal had been
blotted out.
Presently, however, even Frank was compelled to admit that he could
not positively say he could see anything.
He and Mr. Riley exchanged occasional remarks concerning the course.
Both of them had taken their bearings by means of the heavens. The
rising wind was also a guide, for it struck them full in the face;
though for that matter it might not be wholly depended on, since it
was liable to whip around to some other point of the compass.
Bob was riding a little way behind the others. Truth to tell, the
Kentucky boy had reached a point where he was compelled to confess,
to himself of course, that he was feeling rather tired.
The day had been very hot, and some of their riding of an arduous
character, particularly the mountain-climbing part. Still, Bob was
possessed of a very determined nature, and would not easily give in.
When he felt a pain shoot through any portion of his body, he shut
his teeth harder, and took himself to task.
“Want people to think you’re a baby, Bob Archer?” he would mutter, as
he took a firmer grip on the bridle, and shook it to let Domino know
he was awake to the occasion. “As long as Frank can stand it, you
should; and you’ve just got to; hear that?”
The darkness had settled down all around them in earnest now.
Bob was unable to see anything ahead beyond the forms of his two
comrades, separated by some thirty feet.
Far off he could make out the tops of the mountains, outlined blackly
against the cloudy heavens; but on the plain itself all was a pall of
darkness.
One thing gave Bob considerable uneasiness. He feared that they might
have the bad luck to run foul of a prairie dog village, such as could
be occasionally found on these level stretches of the plains. Stories
of horses having their legs broken by stepping into such a burrow,
while going at top speed, had been common among the cow punchers of
Circle Ranch; and Bob had often dreaded lest Domino meet that fate
some unfortunate day or night.
That was really one reason why he lagged behind, so that if trouble
came to his comrades he might have ample warning, and check the
progress of his horse in time. There was no need of sacrificing
Domino without anything to gain by it; and Bob could be a little
selfish on account of his horse, where he would scorn to adopt safe
measures for himself.
Once or twice Bob fancied he caught some sound in the distance. On
second thought, however, he realized that it could not possibly come
from those they followed. The soft ground would prevent the beat of
their horses’ hoofs being heard any distance; and they were still
undoubtedly far away.
Bob, changing his mind about keeping at such a distance in the rear,
urged Domino to shorten the gap; for he was getting lonely and wished
to have an occasional word with his chum.
“About how long can we keep up this going, Frank?” he questioned, as
soon as he had arrived within speaking distance of the leading pair.
“Don’t know,” answered the one addressed; “that depends on how our
horses hold out. Does Domino show any signs of lagging, Bob?”
“Well, he must be tired, after such a long day’s trip, and then this
gallop thrown in for good measure,” replied Bob; “but he’s got the
grit to keep along with the rest. Honest now, Frank, it wouldn’t
surprise me if Mr. Riley’s big bay was the first to show signs of
distress.”
“Perhaps you’re right, boy,” admitted the ex-superintendent, with a
chuckle. “I’m not the best judge of horses, like Sim was; but I can
tell a fine one when I see him. And this here bay doesn’t hold a
candle to either of the others. Still, he’s good for some little time
yet, I reckon.”
Bob had to keep a tight rein, for there was always a chance of a
horse stumbling. The long, dead grass that covered the plain, was
matted in places, so that it formed little traps for flying feet. It
was Frank who had warned him against this ever-present peril.
He found himself wondering what the two fugitives in the advance
might be doing. Would they imagine that their pursuers had dropped
off with the coming of darkness; and take things so easily that,
after a time, those who were following might come up with them?
It was while this thought was passing through Bob’s mind that he
heard Frank give a sudden exclamation. Immediately he looked ahead,
to see a light flash up; and then came a second, over to the left a
little distance.
“Why, Frank, are they going to camp?” he asked, in surprise; “and how
odd of them to make such big fires. They ought to know we’d see them!”
“You’re away off, Chum Bob!” exclaimed Frank, with annoyance in his
voice. “Those are not camp fires at all. The smart rascals have taken
advantage of the rising wind, and the long dead grass. They’ve fired
the prairie, hoping to cut off pursuit!”