Half frantic with this fear, he rashes distractedly over the ground, calling out the backwoodsman’s name. He is answered by another—by Ned Heywood, who staggers to his side, bleeding, his face blackened with powder.
“You are wounded, Heywood?”
“Yes; or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Why?”
“Because Sime—”
“Where is he?”
“Went that way in chase o’ a big brute of a fellow. I’ve jest spied them passin’ through the smoke. For God’s sake, after! Sime may stand in need o’ ye.”
Clancy stays not to hear more, but again urges his horse to speed, with head in the direction indicated.
Darting on, he is soon out into the clear atmosphere; there to see two horsemen going off over the plain, pursued and pursuer. In the former he recognises Borlasse, while the latter is Woodley. Both are upon strong, swift, horses; but better mounted than either, he soon gains upon them.
The backwoodsman is nearing the brigand. Clancy sees this with satisfaction, though not without anxiety. He knows Jim Borlasse is an antagonist not to be despised. Driven to desperation, he will fight like a grizzly bear. Woodley will need all his strength, courage, and strategy.