The warm fleece was taken from the still quivering body, and the appetizing smell of mutton steaks reminded the hungry men that the breakfast hour had long since passed. The meal over, nature asserted her claims, and the thoroughly tired-out travelers wrapped themselves in their blankets and fell asleep.
They were not disturbed, for the trail which they had taken was seldom traveled over, and it was late in the afternoon when they were once more on their way.
The trail led over the beds of dried-up streams, and skirted the numerous patches of scrub oak and cotton-wood trees which were scattered all over the prairie. The long prairie grass sometimes brushed the feet of the horsemen, and coveys of prairie chickens flew up and scurried away as the three outlaws galloped past. Mile after mile was left behind, the tough Indian ponies they bestrode keeping the tireless lope for which they are noted without slacking the pace or becoming exhausted. The three riders were expert horsemen, and had been accustomed to the saddle almost from infancy.
Little was said and few words spoken by the men as they skimmed over the prairie save to call attention to some obstacle in the way, or to some change in the trail, which stretched before them plain and distinct.
The few Indians and half-breeds they met paid no attention to them, thinking them to be cowboys bound for their camp, and in fact they did resemble those hardy specimens of plainsmen who range this country herding cattle or sheep.
When the chill of the night had set in, Cummings ordered a second halt, and the horses, hobbled, commenced to graze on the short buffalo-grass which spread underfoot. The remainder of the carcass of mutton which Moriarity had shot had been strapped back of his saddle, and was now cut up into suitable sizes for the fire which Cook had built. The meat, laid on the glowing embers, was soon cooked and, their hunger appeased, the men, wrapped in their blankets, their feet to the fire, composed themselves for slumber.
The long hours of the night passed on, the fire had died out, when Cummings, awakened by a sudden feeling of chilliness, rose to his feet and piled some twigs and branches together to make a blaze. As he stooped to the ground the faint, far-off beats of horses' hoofs reached his quick ear.
"Dan! Cook! Wake up! Get up lively!" he cried, as he made a dash for his saddle and threw it on his horse. "They are after us."
The camp was instantly in commotion, the saddles thrown over the horses and tightened with ready and experienced hands, and vaulting into the saddles the three men rode out into the bright moonlight as a company of ten men, armed to the teeth, swept like a whirlwind around the edge of the timber.
A yell reached the ears of the three fugitives as they galloped out on the prairie and a voice, clear and commanding, rang out in tones familiar to Moriarity, who had heard them in the cooper-shop when the tramp commanded him to hold out his hands.