The others did not answer, though they were in sympathy with her. Thick darkness hid the prairie, and they on the crest of the ridge seemed utterly alone in an immeasurable immensity of space. Somewhere in the midst of it were long smears of crimson light that seized the eye with their suggestion of distance as they flung themselves aloft when the waggon crossed a rise. Still, the rise remained invisible, and, as Carrie had said, the fires seemed to be moving through a great emptiness. It was curiously and almost hauntingly impressive. "I suppose they can't be near Prospect?" she said. Leland turned his face to the wind, which was filled with the smell of burning. "The nearest should be most of a league away from the homestead," he said. "It's fortunate it is. That fire's an unusually big one." There was silence again for a minute or two, while they watched the moving radiance, and then Carrie stood up suddenly. "Prospect should be straight in front of us over the horses' heads," she said. "Almost. You couldn't see it. The rise hides the house." "Ah!" said Carrie, with a little gasp. "Then there's another light behind it. Something low and little that twinkles like a star." Leland shook his bridle and touched the horse with his heel. "Take your own time," he said hoarsely. "I'm going on. I'm afraid you'll have light enough before you're home." In another moment he had vanished into the darkness, and they heard a drumming of hoofs grow fainter as he rode towards Prospect at a furious gallop. For a while there was nothing he could see, but when he swept across the last rise, and the lights of Prospect twinkled close in front of him, he made out a little patch of radiance beyond them on the prairie. It was evident to him that nobody at the homestead, which stood lower, would see it. Then he struck the horse again, and was riding by the stables at a wild gallop when a voice hailed him. "That you, Mr. Leland?" it said. Leland, remembering what instructions he had given the watcher, shouted and pulled up his horse with a struggle. "Turn out the boys!" he said. "Get them along to the south side of the oats with the wet grain bags and shovels. Tom Gallwey's in the house?" The unseen man said he was; and in another minute Leland, who rode on, swung himself down at the homestead door. Gallwey, who had apparently heard him coming, ran out. "Bring me my old Marlin, and get yours," said Leland. "There's a fire-bug getting his work in to windward of us on the prairie." Gallwey disappeared, but came back with two rifles in less than a minute. Leland, who had let the horse go, turned to him. "We're going on foot to get that fellow if we can," he said. "I guess the boys will know what to do."