CHAPTER XIV
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!”