wildfire-第51部分

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searched。　He　got　on　his　knees。　He　crawled　through　the　sage　all　around　the
trampled　space。　Suddenly　his　heart　seemed　to　receive　a　stab。　He　had　found
prints　of　Lucy's　boots　in　the　soft　earth！　And　he　leaped　up；　wild　and　fierce；
needing　to　know　no　more。

He　ran　back　to　his　cabin。　He　never　thought　of　Bostil；　of　Holley；　of　anything
except　the　story　revealed　in　those　little　boot…tracks。　He　packed　a　saddle…bag
with　meat　and　biscuits；　filled　a　canvas　water…bottle；　and；　taking　them　and　his
rifle；　he　hurried　out　to　the　corral。　First　he　took　Nagger　down　to　Brackton's
pasture　and　let　him　in。　Then　returning；　he　went　at　the　fiery　stallion　as　he
had　not　gone　in　many　a　day；　roped　him；　saddled　him；　mounted　him；　and　rode　off
with　a　hard；　grim　certainty　that　in　Wildfire　was　Lucy's　salvation。

Four　hours　later　Slone　halted　on　the　crest　of　a　ridge；　in　the　cover　of　sparse
cedars；　and　surveyed　a　vast；　gray；　barren　basin　yawning　and　reaching　out　to　a
rugged；　broken　plateau。

He　expected　to　find　Joel　Creech　returning　on　the　back…trail；　and　he　had　taken
the　precaution　to　ride　on　one　side　of　the　tracks　he　was　following。　He　did　not
want　Joel　to　cross　his　trail。　Slone　had　long　ago　solved　the　meaning　of　the
Creeches'　flight。　They　would　use　Lucy　to　ransom　Bostil's　horses；　and　more　than
likely　they　would　not　let　her　go　back。　That　they　had　her　was　enough　for　Slone。
He　was　grim　and　implacable。

The　eyes　of　the　wild…horse　hunter　had　not　searched　that　basin　long　before　they
picked　out　a　dot　which　was　not　a　rock　or　a　cedar；　but　a　horse。　Slone　watched
it　grow；　and；　hidden　himself；　he　held　his　post　until　he　knew　the　rider　was
Joel　Creech。　Slone　drew　his　own　horse　back　and　tied　him　to　a　sage…bush　amidst
some　scant　grass。　Then　he　returned　to　watch。　It　appeared　Creech　was　climbing
the　ridge　below　Slone；　and　some　distance　away。　It　was　a　desperate　chance　Joel
ran　then；　for　Slone　had　set　out　to　kill　him。　It　was　certain　that　if　Joel　had
happened　to　ride　near　instead　of　far；　Slone　could　not　have　helped　but　kill
him。　As　it　was；　he　desisted　because　he　realized　that　Joel　would　acquaint
Bostil　with　the　abducting　of　Lucy；　and　it　might　be　that　this　would　be　well。

Slone　was　shaking　when　young　Creech　passed　up　and　out　of　sight　over　the
ridgeshaking　with　the　deadly　grip　of　passion　such　as　he　had　never　known。　He
waited；　slowly　gaining　control；　and　at　length　went　back　for　Wildfire。

Then　he　rode　boldly　forth　on　the　trail。　He　calculated　that　old　Creech　would
take　Lucy　to　some　wild　retreat　in　the　canyons　and　there　wait　for　Joel　and　the
horses。　Creech　had　almost　certainly　gone　on　and　would　be　unaware　of　a　pursuer
so　closely　on　his　trail。　Slone　took　the　direction　of　the　trail；　and　he　saw　a
low；　dark　notch　in　the　rocky　wall　in　the　distance。　After　that　he　paid　no　more
attention　to　choosing　good　ground　for　Wildfire　than　he　did　to　the　trail。　The
stallion　was　more　tractable　than　Slone　had　ever　found　him。　He　loved　the　open。
He　smelled　the　sage　and　the　wild。　He　settled　down　into　his　long；　easy；
swinging　lope　which　seemed　to　eat　up　the　miles。　Slone　was　obsessed　with
thoughts　centering　round　Lucy；　and　time　and　distance　were　scarcely
significant。

The　sun　had　dipped　full　red　in　a　golden　west　when　Slone　reached　the　wall　of
rocks　and　the　cleft　where　Creech's　tracks　and　Lucy's；　too；　marked　the　camp。
Slone　did　not　even　dismount。　Riding　on　into　the　cleft；　he　wound　at　length　into
a　canyon　and　out　of　that　into　a　larger　one；　where　he　found　that　Lucy　had
remembered　to　leave　a　trail；　and　down　this　to　a　break　in　a　high　wall；　and
through　it　to　another　winding；　canyon。　The　sun　set；　but　Slone　kept　on　as　long
as　he　could　see　the　trail；　and　after　that；　until　an　intersecting　canyon　made
it　wise　for　him　to　halt。

There　were　rich　grass　and　sweet　water　for　his　horse。　He　himself　was　not
hungry；　but　he　ate；　he　was　not　sleepy；　but　he　slept。　And　daylight　found　him
urging　Wildfire　in　pursuit。　On　the　rocky　places　Slone　found　the　cedar　berries
Lucy　had　dropped。　He　welcomed　sight　of　them；　but　he　did　not　need　them。　This
man　Creech　could　never　hide　a　trail　from　him；　Slone　thought　grimly；　and　it
suited　him　to　follow　that　trail　at　a　rapid　trot。　If　he　lost　the　tracks　for　a
distance　he　went　right　on；　and　he　knew　where　to　look　for　them　ahead。　There　was
a　vast　difference　between　the　cunning　of　Creech　and　the　cunning　of　a　wild
horse。　And　there　was　an　equal　difference　between　the　going　and　staying　powers
of　Creech's　mustangs　and　Wildfire。　Yes；　Slone　divined　that　Lucy's　salvation
would　be　Wildfire；　her　horse。　The　trail　grew　rougher；　steeper；　harder；　but　the
stallion　kept　his　eagerness　and　his　pace。　On　many　an　open　length　of　canyon　or
height　of　wild　upland　Slone　gazed　ahead　hoping　to　see　Creech's　mustangs。　He
hoped　for　that　even　when　he　knew　he　was　still　too　far　behind。　And　then；
suddenly；　in　the　open；　sandy　flat　of　an　intersecting　canyon　he　came　abruptly
on　a　fresh　trail　of　three　horses；　one　of　them　shod。

The　surprise　stunned　him。　For　a　moment　he　gazed　stupidly　at　these　strange
tracks。　Who　had　made　them？　Had　Creech　met　allies？　Was　that　likely　when　the　man
had　no　friends？　Pondering　the　thing；　Slone　went　slowly　on；　realizing　that　a
new　and　disturbing　feature　confronted　him。　Then　when　these　new　tracks　met　the
trail　that　Creech　had　left　Slone　found　that　these　strangers　were　as　interested
in　Creech's　tracks　as　he　was。　Slone　found　their　boot…marks　in　the　sandthe
hand…prints　where　some　one　had　knelt　to　scrutinize　Creech's　trail。

Slone　led　his　horse　and　walked　on；　more　and　more　disturbed　in　mind。　When　he
came　to　a　larger；　bare；　flat　canyon　bottom；　where　the　rock　had　been　washed
clear　of　sand；　he　found　no　more　cedar　berries。　They　had　been　picked　up。　At　the
other　extreme　edge　of　this　stony　ground　he　found　crumpled　bits　of　cedar　and
cedar　berries　scattered　in　one　spot；　as　if　thrown　there　by　some　one　who　read
their　meaning。

This　discovery　unnerved　Slone。　It　meant　so　much。　And　if　Slone　had　any　hope　or
reason　to　doubt　that　these　strangers　had　taken　up　the　trail　for　good；　the　next
few　miles　dispelled　it。　They　were　trailing　Creech。

Suddenly　Slone　gave　a　wild　start；　which　made　Wildfire　plunge。

〃CORDTS！〃　whispered　Slone　and　the　cold　sweat　oozed　out　of　every　pore。

These　canyons　were　the　hiding…places　of　the　horse…thief。　He　and　two　of　his　men
had　chanced　upon　Creech's　trail；　and　perhaps　their　guess　at　its　meaning　was
like　Slone's。　If　they　had　not　guessed　they　would　soon　learn。　It　magnified
Slone's　task　a　thousandfold。　He　had　a　moment　of　bitter；　almost　hopeless
realization　before　a　more　desperate　spirit　awoke　in　him。　He　had　only　more　men
to　killthat　was　all。　These　upland　riders　did　not　pack　rifles；　of　that　Slone
was　sure。　And　the　sooner　he　came　up　with　Cordts　the　better。　It　was　then　he　let
Wildfire　choose　his　gait　and　the　trail。　Sunset；　twilight；　dusk；　and　darkness
came　with　Slone　keeping　on　and　on。　As　long　as　there　were　no　intersecting
canyons　or　clefts　or　slopes　by　which　Creech　might　have　swerved　from　his
course；　just　so　long　Slone　would　travel。　And　it　was　late　in　the　night　when　he
had　to　halt。

Early　next　day　the　trail　led　up　out　of　the　red　and　broken　gulches　to　the
cedared　uplands。　Slone　saw　a　black…rimmed；　looming　plateau　in　the　distance。
All　these　winding　canyons；　and　the　necks　of　the　high　ridges　between；　must　run
up　to　that　great　table…land。

That　day　he　lost　two　of　the　horse　tracks。　He　did　not　mark　the　change　for　a
long　time　after　there　had　been　a　split　in　the　party　that　had　been　trailing
Creech。　Then　it　was　too　late　for　him　to　go　back　to　investigate；　even　if　that
had　been　wise。　He　kept　on；　pondering；　trying　to　decide　whether　or　not　he　had
been　discovered　and　was　now　in　danger　of　ambush　ahead　and　pursuit　from　behind。
He　thought　that　possibly　Cordts　had　split　his　party；　one　to　trail　along　after
Creech；　the　others　to　work　around　to　head　him　off。　Undoubtedly　Cordts　knew
this　broken　canyon　country　and　could　tell　where　Creech　was　going；　and　knew　how
to　intercept　him。

The　uncertainty　wore　heavily　upon　Slone。　He　grew　desperate。　He　had　no　time　to
steal　along　cautiously。　He　must　be　the　first　to　get　to　Creech。　So　he　held　to
the　trail　and　went　as　rapidly　as　the　nature　of　the　ground　would　permit；
expecting　to　be　shot　at　from　any　clump　of　cedars。　The　trail　led　down　again
into　a　narrow　canyon　with　low　walls。　Slone　put　all　his　keenness　on　what　lay
before　him。

Wildfire's　sudden　break　and　upflinging　of　head　and　his　snort　preceded　the
crack　of　a　rifle。　Slone　knew　he　had　been　shot　at；　although　he　neither　felt　nor
heard　the　bullet。　He　had　no　chance　to　see　where　the　shot　came　from；　for
Wildfire　bolted；　and　needed　as　much　holding　and　guiding　as　Slone　could　give。
He　ran　a　mile。　Then　Slone　was　able　to　look　about　him。　Had　he　been　shot　at　from
above　or　behind？　He　could　not　tell。　It　did　not　matter；　so　long　as　the　danger
was　not　in　front。　He　kept　a　sharp　lookout；　and　presently　along　the　right
canyon　rim；　five　hundred　feet　above　him；　he　saw　a　bay　horse；　and　a　rider　with
a　rifle。　He　had　been　wrong；　then；　about　these　riders　and　their　weapons。　Slone
did　not　see　any　wisdom　in　halting　to　shoot　up　at　this　pursuer；　and　he　spurred
Wildfire　just　as　a　sharp　crack　sounded　above。　The　bullet　thudded　into　the
earth　a　few　feet　behind　him。　And　then　over　bad　ground；　with　the　stallion
almost　unmanageable；　Slone　ran　a　gantlet　of　shots。　Evidently　the　man　on　the
rim　had　smooth　ground　to　ride　over；　for　he　easily　kept　abreast　of　Slone。　But
he　could　not　get　the　range。　Fortunately　for　Slone；　broken　ramparts　above
checked　the　tricks　of　that　pursuer；　and　Slone　saw　no　more　of　him。

It　afforded　him　great　relief　to　find　that　Creech's　trail　turned　into　a　canyon
on　the　left；　and　here；　with　the　sun　already　low；　Slone　began　to　watch　the
clumps　of　cedars　and　the　jumbles　of　rock。　But　he　was　not　ambushed。　Darkness
set　in；　and；　being　tired　out；　he　was　about　to　halt　for　the　night　when　he
caught　the　flicker　of　a　campfire。　The　stallion　saw　it；　too；　but　did　not　snort。
Slone　dismounted　and；　leading　him；　went　cautiously　forward　on　foot；　rifle　in
hand。

The　canyon　widened　at　a　point　where　two　breaks　occurred；　and　the
less…restricted　space　was　thick　with　cedar　and　pinyon。　Slone　could　tell　by　the
presence　of　these　trees　and　also　by　a　keener　atmosphere　that　he　was　slowly