“If they would only remain satisfied with that. Will they follow us, do you think? And are we far enough away by this time to be safe?”
“It is hardly likely they will let us escape without a chase,” he answered slowly. “We possess too much information now that we have their rendezvous located, and 'Black Bart' will have a private grudge to revenge. I wonder if he suspects who attacked him! But don't worry, Miss Hope; we have miles the start, and the wind has been strong enough to cover our trail. Do you see that dark irregularity ahead?”
“Yes; is it a cloud?”
“No; the Arkansas sand dunes. I am going to try to keep the horses moving until we arrive there. Then we will halt and eat whatever Neb has packed behind him, and rest for an hour or two. You look very tired, but I hope you can keep up for that distance. We shall be safely out of sight then.”
“Indeed, I am tired; the strain of waiting alone in that cabin, and all that happened last night, have tried me severely. But—but I can go through.”
Her voice proved her weakness, although it was determined enough, and Keith, yielding to sudden impulse, put out his hand, and permitted it to rest upon hers, clasped across the pommel. Her eyes drooped, but there was no change of posture.
“Your nerve is all right,” he said, admiringly, “you have shown yourself a brave girl.”
“I could not be a coward, and be my father's daughter,” she replied, with an odd accent of pride in her choking voice, “but I have been afraid, and—and I am still.”
“Of what? Surely, not that those fellows will ever catch up with us?”
“No, I hardly know what, only there is a dread I cannot seem to shake off, as if some evil impended, the coming of which I can feel, but not see. Have you ever experienced any such premonition?”