However, it wasn't a stage. It was a light open wagon, drawn by two horses at a furious pace. Anybody might have thought that the horses were running away, except for the fact that a man on the seat was using the whip. "Great snakes!" ejaculated Harry. "We'll have to clear the track. Gee, Duke! Jenny! Gee! Gee-up! Whoa-oa!" He turned out just in time. The on-comers were in a tearing hurry. The horses, red-nostriled, staring-eyed, lathered and dust-caked, looked like chariot racers in full career--two men were on the seat, one driving, the other plying the whip, and both constantly gazing backward. They wore visored caps and belted blouses and knee trousers--revolvers, knives, field-glasses; up and down in the wagon jolted a mass of camp stuff, and guns, and provisions. This much Terry saw during the last minute in which the equipage arrived, dashed half-way past, and there was pulled short with a suddenness which set the two horses on their haunches. "Injuns!" cried the two men, over their shoulders. "Cut loose for your lives!" One was a blond, pinky-skinned man, the other was not so fair; but the faces of both were faded to a dead, dusty white by fear. Their eyes were curiously poppy. "Where? How many?" demanded Harry and Terry, in the same breath. "Chasing us! Five hundred of 'em! Raiding the stage line! Plundering the stations! Killing the emigrants! Burning the settlements! Cut loose! Ride for your lives!" answered the two men, in a sort of duet. "Five hundred are quite a parcel to be chasing two men," drawled Harry. "Where'll we ride to, and how?" Mighty cool Harry was, in the midst of alarm, thought Terry. "All right," continued Harry, briskly. "One of us'll get on this mule and you can take the other in your wagon and----" "No, no! No room!" they protested. "We've a load. We can't wait. Cut loose. You'll catch us. Ride for your lives. How far to the next station?" "'Bout ten miles," drawled Harry. "Gid-dap!" Down swished the lash, forward sprang the horses. "There they come!" yelled both men. "We're all dead----" and away they tore again, leaning forward on the seat, shaking the lines and plying the whip, and constantly looking back up the trail. "Jiminy!" gasped Terry. "They said five hundred. What are we to do? We can't fight off as many as that. You--you can have Jenny," and he choked. "I'll ride Duke. Hurry!" But Harry appeared to be in no especial hurry. He scratched his long nose reflectively, and surveyed the trail behind.