Quickly picking up his saddle, and keeping the tree between himself and the man standing at the fire, he ran swiftly out upon the prairie and soon stood by the side of his splendid horse. “Ah! my brave old Mephisto, again I will be on your back with free hands to strike back at my foes, and then I fear not even Captain Dash and his band.” The saddle was quickly thrown on and securely girthed, the bridle followed next, and then the lariat pin was drawn up and the rope coiled. With a bound the gambler was upon the back of his horse, which bounded away like an arrow from a bow, just as a loud shout was raised in the camp, and thirty Texans sprang to their feet in alarm. “The prisoner! the gambler! there he goes!” cried a ringing voice. It was the man who had arisen at the fire, and who, seeing the moving, crouching form, had approached the tree to find Poker Dick lying as though dead, and the prisoner free and mounting his horse fifty yards away. “To horse! a thousand dollars to the man who takes him dead or alive,” cried Captain Dash, in ringing tones. Two minutes after he sped away in pursuit, and behind him came a score of his men. Far out on the moonlit prairie was seen the dark form of Mephisto and his daring rider flying like the wind, for life lay ahead of them, and death was hard on their track. CHAPTER III. THE FORFEIT. “Pards, it’s no use; thet horse o’ his are a goer from Goersville, an’ he jist kept right ahead o’ ther cap’n’s mare,” said Prairie Pete, riding back into the timber, after half an hour’s chase of the fugitive gambler. “Lady ain’t in good trim, Pete, jist now, as yer know she’s a leetle lame; ef not, she’d hev overtook ther My-fist-toe, as that gambler calt his animile,” answered a Texan, who had also just returned and dismounted. “Did he kill Poker Dick?” asked a third, riding up. “No; I guesses it were better of he had, though,” responded a young giant, with blond hair falling to his waist. All looked at the speaker, who was known as Seven-foot Harry, on account of his great height. He shrugged his shoulders knowingly and made no reply. A moment after Captain Dash rode up, his brow stern, and his gaunt-bodied racing mare limping badly. “The pace was too fast for Lady, boys, lame as she is, so he escaped; but only for a time.” There was something in the tone of the leader which told his men that Kent King would find a dangerous man upon his trail in Captain Dash, who seemed determined to track him to the bitter end. In his fancy dress, half buckskin, half Mexican. Captain Dash looked exceedingly handsome, for his face was flushed with his rapid ride; but the beauty of his expressive mouth was marred by the stern look resting upon it, while in his dark-blue eyes dwelt a light that was almost cruel. “Captain, Ben Tabor wanted me ter say that he would like ter see yer, when yer returned,” said Seven-foot Harry. “Where is Tabor?”