He meditated an ungenerous scheme for vindication and, to that end, wished Mr. Long to ride the sorrel horse. For Mr. Long, if he were indeed the murderer--as, of course, he was--would indubitably, upon some plausible pretext, attempt to pass the guards at the farther end of the trip, where was no clear-eyed Griffith on guard. What more plausible that a modification of the plan already rehearsed--for Long to tell the wardens that Griffith had sent him to telegraph to the sheriff? Let him once pass those warders on any pretext! That would be final betrayal, for all his shrewdness. There was no possibility that Long and Bransford could complete their escape on that lame sorrel. He would not be allowed to get much of a start--just enough to betray himself. Then he, Griffith, would bring them back in triumph. It was a good scheme: all things considered, it reflected great credit upon Mr. Griffith's imagination. As in Poe's game of "odd or even," where you must outguess your opponent and follow his thought, Mr. Rex Griffith had guessed correctly in every respect. Such, indeed, had been Mr. Long's plan. Only Rex did not guess quite often enough. Mr. Long had guessed just one layer deeper--namely, that Mr. Griffith would follow his thought correctly and also follow him. Therefore Mr. Long switched again. It was a bully game--better than poker. Mr. Long enjoyed it very much. Just as Rex expected, Tobe allowed himself to be overpersuaded and rode the sorrel horse. He renamed the sorrel horse Goldie, on the spot, saddled him awkwardly, mounted in like manner, and rode into the shadowy depths of Double Mountain. Once he was out of sight Mr. Griffith followed, despite the angry protest of Mr. Steele--alleging falsely that he was going to try for a deer. Tobe rode slowly up the crooked and brush-lined canyon. Behind him, cautiously hidden, came Griffith, the hawk-eyed avenger--waiting at each bend until Mr. Long had passed the next one, for closer observation of how Mr. Long bore himself in solitude. Mr. Long bore himself most disappointingly. He rode slowly and awkwardly, scanning with anxious care the hillsides before him. Not once did he look back lest he should detect Mr. Griffith. Near the summit the Goldie horse shied and jumped. It was only one little jump, whereunto Goldie had been privately instigated by Mr. Long's thumb--"thumbing" a horse, as done by one conversant with equine anatomy, produces surprising results!--but it caught Mr. Long unawares and tumbled him ignominiously in the dust.