She turned her horse on the trail behind him, and the other outlaws followed, all riding in Indian file and with several packhorses bringing up the rear.
After a ride of a dozen miles a halt was made for a rest, the chief said, and then Celeste Seldon observed that the hoofs of every horse were muffled, to prevent their leaving a trail.
Having been left something over a couple of miles from the scene of the holding up of the stage, it would be next to impossible for the best of trailers to discover which way the road-agents had come to the spot and left it, for the chief's muffled-hoofed horse would leave no track to where the other animals were.
Tired out and anxious, Celeste Seldon, after eating sparingly of the food given her by the chief, sat down with her back to a tree, and, closing her eyes, dropped into a deep sleep. When she was awakened to continue the journey she found that she had slept an hour.
"We are ready to go miss," said the man who had appeared to be the chief's lieutenant, and whom he had called Wolf, whether because it was his real name, or on account of his nature, Celeste did not know.
"I am ready," she said simply, refreshed by her short nap.
"Shall I aid you to mount, miss?"
"No, I can mount without your aid; but where is your chief?"
"He has gone on ahead, miss, to prepare for your coming, leaving me to escort you."
"I am content, for one is as bad as the other," was the reply, and, leaping into her saddle again, she fell in behind the man Wolf, and the march was again begun.