There was no moon in the sky, but the millions of stars were never more brilliant. In the clear atmosphere they gave enough illumination to show quite well where he trod, except when threading through the willows or passing close to the towering masses of rocks. Inasmuch as he had decided to keep up the effort to reach the next station, the obvious thing to do was to follow in the hoof prints left by the pony. Doubtless he was making for the station and would reach it within the coming hour. What would the agents think when he dashed up without rider, saddle or mail pouches? What could they think except that the man had been killed and the bags stolen? It is a difficult but not impossible task to trail a horse by night. To do it, however, requires the finest woodcraft. That wonderful scout Kit Carson performed the exploit many times, when he had neither the moon nor stars to aid him. First locating the trail, he reasoned out the point for which his enemies were making. His familiarity with the country and his intimate knowledge of the red men were rarely at fault. It might be some river crossing a dozen miles away. Paying no further attention to the trail, the pursuer hurried to the ford, where by passing his hands over the earth he learned whether the hoofprints were there. If so, and as I have said he seldom missed it, he decided the next most likely point for which the fugitives were heading, when he took up the pursuit and pressed it as before. More than once by this remarkable strategy he reached a certain place ahead of the Indians and ambushed them when they came up. But such exploits make an accurate knowledge of the country indispensable. Alden Payne was a stranger in a strange land, beside which his experience was not to be compared with that of the peerless scout and mountaineer named. And yet to a certain extent he followed the policy of the veteran. His conclusion was reasonable that Bucephalus was making for the station and would change his course only when turned temporarily aside by obstacles. He would follow the line of least resistance all the way through. His late rider meant to do the same. Standing a few minutes at the beginning of the trail, with mail pouches slung over his shoulders he took up his hard task. So long as he was erect, he could not see the impressions in the earth, but by stooping low made them out. At such times, when the surface was flinty or pebbly, he not only used the sense of feeling, but lighted a match. Holding this close to the ground he was generally able to see that for which he was seeking. Alden must have traversed a furlong without turning to the right or left. At the end of that distance the ground began slightly rising, and led to a low rocky ridge. Once more he paused and held a lighted match to the ground. He had made no mistake: the impressions showed clearly. The fact sent a thrill of hope through him. He might succeed after all.