“Where were you going?” cried the corporal.
“After Wandle.”
“I might have guessed!” said Curtis savagely, and turned to Stanton. “This explains the thing.”
“How far is he ahead of you?” Stanton asked.
“He got off half an hour before I did, as near as I can guess.”
They sat silent for a moment or two, breathless and crestfallen, their horses distressed.
“Let’s get into the lee of the bluff yonder; this wind’s keen,” Curtis said.
“You’re losing time,” Prescott objected.
“We’ve lost it,” Curtis told him grimly. “My mount has been out since noon, and it’s near midnight now. Stanton’s isn’t much fresher.”
Prescott rode with them to the bluff, where they got down.