CHAPTER XXVIII
THE END OF THE PURSUIT
When they had ridden some distance through the wood, Stanton checked his horse.
“Hold on!” he cried. “Here’s a bit of an opening in the brush!”
He moved away a few yards, and then called out:
“Looks mighty like a trail. I guess you didn’t notice it when you came along.”
Prescott admitted that he had not done so, which was not surprising. There was little to distinguish the gap between the nut bushes from others that opened up all round; but Stanton seemed satisfied that he was right.
“Somebody has driven out this way not long ago,” he explained.
“It doesn’t follow that the man was Wandle.”
“Why, no. Still, I guess it’s likely; and if there’s a trail, it leads to a homestead. Anyway, we’ll track it up.”