"Yours would last because you're such a light and easy rider. You take weight off a pony. But I'm a good deal heavier, and I can feel this fellow tiring, although he'd go until he dropped in his tracks if I'd let him."
They walked their ponies over the springy sod beside the road, which was becoming fainter the farther they got from the town. In the distance they could see the mountains, a dark mass against the sky.
"Some one on the road," said Stella, pointing ahead.
"It is a little hazy. Dust, I guess," said Ted. "I think we better hit it up a bit. Perhaps it is Norris and his precious 'grandson,' and if it is we'll get to them before they get to the mountains."
They put their ponies, at a lope, and seemed to be catching up with the dust cloud rapidly. Soon they were able to distinguish two riders.
"By Jove, I believe we are on the right track," said Ted.
Stella's bright eyes had been watching the riders in front of them for some time.
"Ted, it's not Norris. There are two riders, one behind the other, and they are coming this way," she said.
Ted reined in his pony, and took a long look.
"You're right, Stella," he said. "But, perhaps, we can get some news of the fugitives from them."