Middleton looked at his watch, holding it in the moon's rays.
"It is two hours until day," he said, "and the trail is rapidly growing fresher. We may yet get through before the ring closes. Ah, there they are now!"
A hand's breadth of fire suddenly leaped up in the north, and burned there like a steady torch. Far in the east, another but fainter appeared and burned, and a third leaped up in the south. But when they looked back in the west they saw none.
"Fortune rides on our cruppers so far," said Middleton. "We are on the side of the circle which yet has the open segment. Push on, my boys!"
Phil's knees involuntarily pressed against the side of his horse, and that strange sensation, like icy water running down the spine, came again. Those three lights speaking to one another in the darkness and across great distances were full of mystery and awe. But he rode without speech, and he looked most of the time at the lights, which remained fixed, as if what they said could not be changed.
Middleton, who was in advance, suddenly reined in his horse, and the others, stopping, also, noticed that just in front of them a depression ran across the plain.
"It's an arroyo or something like it," said Bill Breakstone, "but the wagons have crossed it anyhow."
They followed the trail to the other side and then saw that it continued almost parallel with the broad gully.
"Why shouldn't we take to the gully?" said Phil. "It has a smooth bottom, it is wide enough for us, riding two abreast, and it will give us shelter."
"A good idea," said Middleton.