Wilson leisurely rose and stalked off across the small, open patches, in the direction of the horses. They had grazed around from the right toward the outlet of the brook. Here headed a ravine, dense and green. Two of the horses had gone down. Wilson evidently heard them, though they were not in sight, and he circled somewhat so as to get ahead of them and drive them back. The invisible brook ran down over the rocks with murmur and babble. He halted with instinctive action. He listened. Forest sounds, soft, lulling, came on the warm, pine-scented breeze. It would have taken no keen ear to hear soft and rapid padded footfalls. He moved on cautiously and turned into a little open, mossy spot, brown-matted and odorous, full of ferns and bluebells. In the middle of this, deep in the moss, he espied a huge round track of a cougar. He bent over it. Suddenly he stiffened, then straightened guardedly. At that instant he received a hard prod in the back. Throwing up his hands, he stood still, then slowly turned. A tall hunter in gray buckskin, gray-eyed and square-jawed, had him covered with a cocked rifle. And beside this hunter stood a monster cougar, snarling and blinking. CHAPTER XXII “Howdy, Dale,” drawled Wilson. “Reckon you're a little previous on me.” “Sssssh! Not so loud,” said the hunter, in low voice. “You're Jim Wilson?” “Shore am. Say, Dale, you showed up soon. Or did you jest happen to run acrost us?” “I've trailed you. Wilson, I'm after the girl.” “I knowed thet when I seen you!” The cougar seemed actuated by the threatening position of his master, and he opened his mouth, showing great yellow fangs, and spat at Wilson. The outlaw apparently had no fear of Dale or the cocked rifle, but that huge, snarling cat occasioned him uneasiness. “Wilson, I've heard you spoken of as a white outlaw,” said Dale. “Mebbe I am. But shore I'll be a scared one in a minit. Dale, he's goin' to jump me!” “The cougar won't jump you unless I make him. Wilson, if I let you go will you get the girl for me?” “Wal, lemme see. Supposin' I refuse?” queried Wilson, shrewdly. “Then, one way or another, it's all up with you.” “Reckon I 'ain't got much choice. Yes, I'll do it. But, Dale, are you goin' to take my word for thet an' let me go back to Anson?” “Yes, I am. You're no fool. An' I believe you're square. I've got Anson and his gang corralled. You can't slip me--not in these woods. I could run off your horses--pick you off one by one--or turn the cougar loose on you at night.” “Shore. It's your game. Anson dealt himself this hand.... Between you an' me, Dale, I never liked the deal.” “Who shot Riggs?... I found his body.” “Wal, yours truly was around when thet come off,” replied Wilson, with an involuntary little shudder. Some thought made him sick. “The girl? Is she safe--unharmed?” queried Dale, hurriedly.