"Now I reckon I'm on the rails all right," he said at length, when the Southern Cross shone brightly on his left, and slightly behind; "but blow me for a cross-eyed jackass if I haven't forgotten the water-bag!"
His annoyance at this neglect was keen, though he did not seem to consider that he could not have carried it with him in any case, both of his hands having been very much occupied at the start in controlling his unwilling mount. They had cleared the softer desert country now, and had entered upon the hard-baked, ironshot plains which frequently intervene in these latitudes, and now Furious showed signs of failing in his stride, his unshod hoofs were ill able to bear the pressing contact of the rounded diorite pebbles. Then for the first time the Shadow tested the strength of the doubtful reins, and pulled steadily and strongly. They held firm, and the weary steed slowed down to an easy canter, and finally to a walk.
"Whew!" ejaculated the reckless rider, mopping his damp brow. "I reckon this one-man circus is a bit trying on the nerves. If the hanged brute had tripped on a stump, or dived into a snag hole, it would have been 'Good-bye, Shadow, and the crows will weep for ye in the morning.' But it's a jolly long sight better'n walkin'. Hillo, hillo! what has we struck now? Wo-ah, my pet lamb, wo-ah."
Out of the darkness, almost straight ahead, the red glow of hot ashes had become visible. While he watched the gentle night breezes fanned the dying embers into feeble momentary flame, and there, silhouetted against the blackness, was the buggy which had left Golden Flat immediately in advance of the Shadow. The two horses were dimly observable standing motionless and asleep among the sparse scrub some little way off, while, wrapped in their blankets beside the fire lay the huddled figures of Macguire and Hawkins evidently also in deep slumber. The watcher whistled softly to himself.
"By smoke," he murmured, "them beggars must have covered fifty miles yesterday. The howlin' sneak has been skeert o' some one comin' after. Gee whiz! What a be-eautiful shock he'll get——"
His reflections were arrested by a sudden movement of one of the reclining men, and the harsh voice of Macguire reached his ears as he strove to awaken his associate.
"Get up, ye dreamin' idiot, an' see if the horses are keepin' handy. I want to get in when the Warden's office opens in the mornin'."
A drowsy protesting murmur was all the Shadow could hear of the reply. Then Macguire's unmusical accents were raised in angry abuse.
"Ye doesn't think we can do it?" he snarled. "But I say we shall, though the horses drop dead when we get there. I'll show that infernal Scotsman what it means to run up agin Macguire. We'll get a move on by sunrise, that'll give us three hours to get in by nine o'clock."
He arose painfully to throw some brushwood on the fire, while Hawkins, grumbling heartily, went in search of the horses. Silently the Shadow swung Furious's head round, and made a wide detour.