“Sartin. We couldn’t well travel cl’ar to Kansas without ’em, I reckon. So Wilson tried to make you believe I was a-goin’ back on you, did he? What else did he say?”
“He says he is going to ride down to see you to-morrow, and find out what you mean by such actions.”
“All right. That will give us a hull day the start of him if he tries to foller us. Here’s your hoss.”
Guy was aching in every bone and muscle after his long ride (eighty miles in two days was quite an achievement for a boy who had never ridden on horseback before), and it was only after considerable trouble and some assistance from the hunter that he succeeded in climbing into his saddle. It was hard work, too, to keep up with Zeke, who at once put his horse into a gallop and went ahead, as if he were in a great hurry. He never drew rein, even long enough to speak to Guy, until midnight, and then the only reason he stopped was because the moon went down and it was too dark to travel.
He and Guy stretched themselves out under a tree beside the road without lighting a fire, and slept soundly until morning. At the first peep of day they ate a little of the dried beef with which Zeke had filled Guy’s game-bag, and then resumed their rapid ride, halting only for a few minutes at noon to rest their horses and eat a hasty luncheon.
Guy was fast giving out, in spite of the excitement which had thus far kept him up, and when, just as the sun was sinking, they entered a little glade surrounded by a wilderness of trees and rocks, he doggedly threw himself from his horse and declared that he could not ride a step farther.
“How far are we from Mr. Wilson’s?” he asked.
“A matter of sixty or seventy miles, mebbe,” replied Zeke.
“Well, that added to eighty makes a hundred and forty or fifty miles that I have ridden on horseback during the last three days,” groaned Guy. “An iron boy couldn’t stand more. I don’t see the need of so much haste anyhow.”
“Thar was need of it,” said Zeke, “but I reckon we’re out of danger now.”