The four men swore feelingly and urged the tired packhorse to greater speed. One of the three riders yelled at them, but the four riders and the pack animal swung into the downward road ahead, while the men from the hogback struck the road three hundred yards behind.
All the horses were weary from their uphill run, and there was little choice between the two factions in the race, except that those in the lead were hampered with the packhorse, which seemed disinclined to make it a runaway.
Near the bottom of the hill, and within half a mile of Pinnacle, the race swung to the left, circling the bottom of the hills and heading toward the Tumbling H Ranch. The three riders in the rear were around a series of sharp curves when those in the lead decided to make it a cross-country race, and as a result they raced past the turning-off place and lost valuable time in picking up the trail again.
The packhorse was giving its captors plenty of trouble now, and they took turns in beating it with rope ends to sustain speed. The pursuers were gaining a little because of this drawback, but were not near enough to make shooting accurate in that hazy light.
The chase swung nearer to the Tumbling H and the leaders circled slightly as if to head into the cañon at the rear of the ranch. Their horses were beginning to falter, and the pack animal was wheezing heavily.
The pursuers swung more to the right, taking advantage of the more open going, and their added speed caused the others to turn sharply toward the rear of the Tumbling H.
Unfortunately for the pursuers, they had swung too wide, passing the head of a deep washout, which angled in such a way that their course to the Tumbling H was blocked, and they were forced to swing back and lose much time in circling the head of it again.
Their quarry had disappeared at the rear of the Tumbling H, in the blocky shadows of the cañon mouth, forcing the pursuers to go carefully for fear of an ambush. It was several minutes later that the four riders came into view again, swinging back over a ridge several hundred yards away and heading in the general direction in which they had come.
The three riders swung their horses away from the Tumbling H, and again took up the chase into the hills. But the chase was of short duration this time. Only once, after crossing the ridge, did the pursuers get a glimpse of the other riders, and then they disappeared completely. So far away were they that the three riders drew up their jaded horses, swore to do better next time, and headed back toward the road.
While the pursuit went into the hills, Hashknife Hartley leaned out of their little window and listened. Sleepy was snoring loudly, unmindful of the thud of hoofs which had brought Hashknife from the land of dreams to investigate.