The chase that followed was a hot one, and Black John was pressed hard; but the pony he now had under him was fast, and he did not spare it. He overtook the girl, shouting to her to stop. When she did not, he rode up beside her galloping horse. Then he fairly lifted her from its back, throwing her against his side; and, holding her there by main strength, he galloped furiously on. “Git up behind me!” he shouted. “If you don’t, you’ll tumble, and it will be the worse for you.” She was too weak to obey him; her mind, also, revolted at the thought of going farther with him. She preferred to fall to the ground, and meet death there. In desperation, Black John stopped his horse, and shifted her to its back, in front of him. “You go with me,” he said. “D’ye want them Injuns to git ye? You’re a fool, if ye do!” The Indian pursuers were coming up rapidly; but again Black John urged on the plucky mustang, and found it so superior as a runner that it again drew away from the Indians, in spite of its double burden. Lena was in a fainting condition by this time. Weakened by the terrible exertions she had been forced to undergo, and by the mental agony she had endured, she had no strength of mind or body left. Black John was separated now from all of his men. Some of them were down, killed by the redskins; the others were in flight. Even Toby Sam was no longer near him. “’Twon’t be so bad,” was his thought, “if I can only git away from the Injuns. Whatever turns up later, I’ll have a good excuse to give for sep’rating myself from the boyees. I’m hopin’ I’ll never meet any of ’em again, to make an explanation needful, but if I should I’ve shorely got it now. But them cussed Injuns!” He looked back, and saw several redskins still chasing him, and he knew if they stuck to it long enough they would probably tire down his pony, for, in the long run, the double burden would tell on it. When that came, he knew he would have to fight the Indians. “But they’ll think they’ve struck a rattler if they crowd me!” was his grim thought. He drove his spurs into the sides of the mustang. Unused to such things, it jumped forward, with a squeal of pain, greatly adding to its speed. “I’ll make it,” was the thought of the ruffian. “And what more can I want? I’ve got the emeralds and the girl, and I’ve got rid of the fellers that might be inclined to make trouble--would shorely make trouble if they knowed I had the emeralds. I’ll hit some trail runnin’ into Mexican territory, and git out of the country. And then!” He looked at the white face of the girl, who had fallen limp in his villainous arms. CHAPTER XLII. A ROUGH DIPLOMAT. When Lena Forest came to a full realization of her changed position, she was alone with Black John. About them were rugged hills, hemming in a little valley, where the captured Indian pony was grazing.