CHAPTER XVII
A STARTLING CRY
It seemed to Jo Ann that years passed before her horse came to a stop. She drew a quick breath of relief, then turned about quickly to see if Florence were safe.
“Thank goodness!” she ejaculated as she saw that Florence’s horse, though still slipping, was over the worst of the incline, and that Florence was hanging on pluckily.
“O—oh, José!” Jo Ann ejaculated. “This is terrible!”
“Sí, sí,” José agreed, watching Florence anxiously.
Shortly after Florence’s horse had come to a safe halt, she called out between gasps, “José—are there—any more—places—this bad?”
“No, señorita. This is the worst.”
In spite of the fact that their horses were getting tired they urged them on, as darkness was beginning to settle down over the mountains.
“I thought surely we’d have caught up with Carlitos and that man by this time,” thought Jo Ann. “The poor child must be nearly dead, walking so fast. I’m tired, and we’ve been riding all the way.”
When she saw how swiftly the shadows were deepening, she wondered how they would ever be able to follow the trail from now on. But they must.