The wall stood at an angle to the street, and the rider darted into sight as Jack peered out. The latter turned and shot a single whisper over his shoulder, "Danger," and all stood silent. CHAPTER XXXVIII. IN THE DESERTED CITY. Jack had known the rider at once. It was the tall Malay, the Strangler. He was mounted on a nimble pony, and flogging it to its utmost speed. A few yards from the house the pony slipped on the smooth stones and nearly came down. This, perforce, checked its headlong career, and the Malay drew it in to a walk. Everyone held their breath, and Jack watched the dark, sinister figure pace by, wishing that his furious speed had not been interrupted. He was past, he was gone, and Jack breathed more freely. Then, oh, unhappy turn of luck, the infant in its mother's arms stirred and gave a feeble cry. The mother hushed it at once, and the fugitives looked at each other aghast. Had that cry been heard? The answer came at once. They heard the pony swiftly wheeled on the stones without. A second later it dashed back the way it had come, the Malay flogging fiercely, reckless of slips or stumbles. "It was U Saw's man, that big Malay," said Jack to his father. "What shall we do?" "We must push on and see what lies beyond the town," said Mr. Haydon. "It is clear that he suspects something. All depends now on whether our line into the open country is blocked." The little party swiftly sped up the farther part of the alley, and worked their way through the town by the narrow lanes which threaded the mass of buildings like runs in a rabbit warren. Through these by-ways the native woman proved a sure guide, and soon, through a gap, they saw the open, sandy waste which lay around the deserted town. From the last patch of cover they looked out cautiously and saw a dismal sight. The town, as has been said, lay in a great cup-like depression. On the rim of the farther rise, straight in their path, a horseman sat motionless. Jack knew him again at once. It was the Malay. He had drawn up his pony on the ridge above the town, and now sat there, watching intently, a dark figure on the sky-line. "We are beset front and rear," groaned Mr. Haydon. "He is waiting for companions, and watching to see which way we break cover." Mr. Haydon had hit upon the truth. At earliest dawn skilful trackers had been set upon the trail of the fugitives at the point where Jack had silenced the dog. Thence they had followed them to the mouth of the pass, and had divined their number and the identity of those who made up the party.