It was true. Upon a ridge scarcely a mile distant was the strange woman, riding the spotted mustang that had served her so well when Fred Hawksley was in pursuit. The sun shining clearly, had outlined the two hunters clearly against the open background, and she had evidently caught sight of them, for she drew rein, gazing in their direction with one hand shading her eyes.
As Campbell leaped upon his big bay horse, she wheeled the mustang and dashed back over the swell like an arrow. Touching his mettled horse, fairly warmed to his work by the morning’s ride, Ned sped swiftly over the rolling prairie, almost in the same tracks that he had made a week before, when pursuing the same creature. Would this chase end as disastrously? His brow darkened and his teeth gritted fiercely as he resolved to give the race a different termination.
A fierce joy filled the young ranger’s heart as the woman rider again appeared in sight, for he could see that already he had lessened the interval between them. Both animals evidently were fresh, and it was to be a test of their superiority—a war of races.
As they topped the next swell, Campbell’s face changed, He it was that was losing ground now. The spotted mustang stretched out like a grayhound, was running with the speed and evenness of an arrow’s flight. Bending forward, the strange rider seemed urging him on at top speed.
Campbell’s spurs dripped well with blood, and his voice added its persuasion, but in vain. Slowly, surely the spotted mustang was drawing away from the big horse.
Campbell uttered a furious curse as he noted this, but then a gleam lighted up his countenance. The fugitive was heading directly for the timber point where he had lost sight of her and Fred Hawksley, a week previously.
Now, should she disappear as strangely as then, he would know that she was concealed somewhere in the baranca, and it would go hard but that he unearthed the mystery. With these thoughts, Ned urged his beast forward, at its best pace.
As the woman neared the timber point, she turned her head and glanced back over her shoulder. Campbell almost fancied that he could detect her scornful, taunting laugh as she waved a hand toward him, then bending forward, disappeared around the clump of trees.
“Now I will know—if she is gone, then I have her foul. I’ll solve the mystery of Fred’s disappearance, and that too before this day’s sun sets!” he muttered, as his spurs rankled the big horse’s sides.
In a few moments he also rounded the point of trees, and abruptly pulled up his horse, with a low cry. As he suspected, the prairie was open and untenanted. The strange rider had disappeared.