Luck seemed to be with him, for he soon came upon the girl, finding her afoot and alone, bewildered and frightened in the darkness. She had fallen from her horse in the stampede, and had run from the noise of the Indians, thinking safety lay in a direction away from them.
She ran from him, thinking at first he was an Indian; and then ran still harder when he called out to her and she knew who he really was. But he overtook her very quickly, being on horseback, and drew rein beside her in the darkness.
“Miss Arlington,” said the renegade, bending from his horse, and then leaping down beside her, “I have been looking everywhere for you.”
She drew herself up defiantly, and answered him with cold scorn.
“Mr. Barlow, I refuse to go with you; I’d rather fall into the hands of the Indians.”
“That’s foolish,” he said; “I intend to help you.”
“I refuse to go with you!” she repeated desperately, and she began to run from him.
He followed, calling to her in persuasive tones, and leading his horse.
Seeing that he was likely thus to lose her in the darkness, and that his words were without effect, he remounted and pursued her, and overtook her again in a short time.
“You are acting silly in this matter,” he asserted. “Let me help you. Here, you may ride my horse.”