The action of Dick confirmed what his new master had suspected from the first: the route to the station was not over a single, narrow trail to which the riders confined themselves, but covered an area that gave wide latitude. That he took the path which was taken by the man who saved him from the bear was one of those providential occurrences that are more common in this life than most people believe. The emigrant trains were disposed to keep to certain paths, where the face of the country compelled a closing in, but in other sections the respective courses were separated by miles, and, as has been shown the parties plodding across the plains, even though their routes were parallel, were often so far apart that for days they saw nothing of one another. Even the twinkle of their camp fires were too far over the “convex world,” to be visible. Alden Payne could not free himself from the belief that it was safer to hold Dick down to a moderate pace than to give him free rein. The mail was already hopelessly behind time,――a fact which did not concern him――though he was determined to deliver it at the station if it were possible for him to do so. This could be done before dark with the pony on a trot or walk. The feeling of the young Express Rider was natural. When drawing near a point where danger is suspected, we prefer to do so at the most guarded pace. With all of Dick’s sagacity he was more likely to go wrong when on a run than when on a walk. The animal must have felt much as did the trained dog, who, having pointed a bird, was picked up by his new and sympathetic master and carried off the field, under the belief that he had been suddenly taken with cramps. Dick gathered his hoofs several times and broke into an impatient gallop, only to be drawn down again to a trot which finally dropped to a rapid walk. He gave up the dispute in disgust and by his action said: “All right; if you think you know more than I do, you may run things.” It did not add to Alden’s serenity of mind to notice that the course was gradually shifting to the left, and finally led directly toward the brush of smoke which still stained the blue tinted sky. All manner of thoughts crowded upon him. The one hopeful truth was that the living Lightfoot had come over the route unharmed within the last hour. It would seem that Alden ought to be as fortunate as he. Ah! if he had only had time to question the rider who might have passed through a brush with the redskins!