Emma Dean paused hesitatingly, then darted away, but the instant she was out of sight of the bandits, Emma stopped short to wait for her companion.
Grace was still in the thick of trouble, but, though the wounded bandit, lying flat on his back, continued to shoot, the Overton girl was thankful that Belle Bates had no weapon to use on her.
Though the fight had been under way less than twenty seconds, the bandits were already running to the scene. Grace, following her second shot, had darted away, calling to Emma as she ran.
“Run! They’re after us!” admonished Grace as she came up with Emma.
A scattering fire of revolver bullets spattered on the rocks about them, but, by lively sprinting, they soon succeeded in placing substantial barriers of rock between them and their pursuers. The bandits, of course, possessed the advantage of long experience in this sort of warfare, but Grace’s mind was an alert one, quick to receive impressions and quick to react.
“I hear horses coming!” panted Emma.
“Yes. They’ve taken to the ponies. We must get where the ponies cannot conveniently go, and do it quick. Run on your toes. Be careful not to leave a footprint anywhere,” cautioned Grace.
It was soon apparent from the sounds, however, that the horsemen were overtaking the girls, though Grace felt reasonably certain that the bandits did not know where she and Emma at that moment were. In the circumstances there appeared only one way to avoid discovery, and that was to do some skillful dodging, which the two girls promptly did when the pursuers drew closer to them. Grace and Emma hid behind a rock, and, as the riders swept down toward them, moved step by step around it, so that the rock should always be between them and the bandits.
The outlaws swung by at a brisk gallop which left Grace and Emma to the rear of their pursuers.
“Run! We must find a hiding place,” urged Grace.