Looking about for a hiding place, he could descry none in the obscurity. He ran a few paces until well to one side of the course of the stranger, when he sat down on the ground. The next minute he saw the other was riding a horse on a walk. Moreover he had no companion. The flickering rays did not tell this as much as the hoofbeats, which were those of a single animal. The illumination added a little more. The left arm was thrust through a large ring at the top of a lantern and thus supported it. Alden could make out in the reflection the stranger’s hands (one of which grasped the knotted bridle reins), the pommel of his saddle, and the tuft of hair at the base of his pony’s neck, but everything else was invisible in the darkness. Yielding to a strange misgiving, Alden had lain flat on the ground to escape discovery. When the pony came opposite, he was within a dozen paces, near enough to scent that something was amiss. He snorted and leaped the other way. In the same instant the lantern flirted upward. Its uncertain light, revealed that the stranger had brought his rifle to his shoulder and was aiming at the point of disturbance. “Don’t fire!” called the youth, springing to his feet; “I’m a friend.” The other had soothed the fright of his horse and held him motionless. The rider did not speak and Alden, after a minute’s hesitation, walked up to him. “Who are you and why do you carry that lantern?” asked the youth, looking up from the stirrup of the man. The latter lowered his weapon and peered down at him. He did not hold the light above his head, so Alden could not see his face. He was vexed by the persistent silence of the individual. “Are you deaf and dumb?” sharply demanded our young friend. Still the horseman did not utter a word. He grunted once and touched spur to his pony. The animal made a bound, and would have dashed off on a run, had not his master jerked him down to a walk. Then he moved off in the shadows, the rider still silent. Alden looked after him in the gloom. Man and brute had disappeared but the light twinkled and dipped as before. “That is a little ahead of anything I ever saw before!” was the exclamation of the puzzled Alden; “we have plenty of mutes in the east but I never met any on the plains, and I don’t believe he is one. I should set him down as a fool or one gone crazy.” By and by the soft hoofbeats died out, ever on the same deliberate walk. The pony would have gone faster had his master permitted, and why he did not was altogether beyond the understanding of the mystified lad. But the questions could not be answered by standing in the midst of the plain and guessing and staring. The soggy pouches about his shoulders would not allow Alden to forget his duty. Besides, the soaked leather with its contents was growing heavy, and the brisk gait he had maintained for the last half hour or more was telling on him. He was weary and would have been glad of a rest.