Lance broke into a trot, eyes wary and alert for sign of his prey. At any second he might be greeted by a salvo of bullets, and every fiber of his lean body was taut.
As he approached the clump of brush he dropped to the ground, and came finally to it on his belly. From a distance of about ten feet, he rose and charged.
Expecting each moment to hear the spit of a revolver, he was more alarmed by what actually did greet him.
Nothing. The patch of brush was empty!
"Well I'll be damned!" Lance murmured. "Where did he get to?"
He gazed around, bewildered. The growth of bush was about ten feet wide. On either side the flat Nevada plain stretched away—empty. No figure was visible.
Lance was utterly baffled. The fellow had vanished as if by magic. Flown away into thin air!
he young captain stood quite still, listening, probing his puzzled brain.