This canyon was open, with a level and narrow floor divided by a deep wash. Slone put Wildfire to a gallop. The narrow wash was no obstacle to Wildfire; he did not have to be urged or checked. It was not long before Slone saw a horseman a quarter of a mile ahead, and he was discovered almost at the same time. This fellow showed both surprise and fear. He ran his horse. But in comparison with Wildfire that horse seemed sluggish. Slone would have caught up with him very soon but for a change in the lay of the land. The canyon split up and all of its gorges and ravines and washes headed upon the pine-fringed plateau, now only a few miles distant. The gait of the horses had to be reduced to a trot, and then a walk. The man Slone was after left Creech's trail and took to a side cleft. Slone, convinced he would soon overhaul him, and then return to take up Creech's trail, kept on in pursuit. Then Slone was compelled to climb. Wildfire was so superior to the other's horse, and Slone was so keen at choosing ground and short cuts, that he would have been right upon him but for a split in the rock which suddenly yawned across his path. It was impassable. After a quick glance Slone abandoned the direct pursuit, and, turning along this gulch, he gained a point where the horse-thief would pass under the base of the rim-wall, and here Slone would have him within easy rifle shot. And the man, intent on getting out of the canyon, rode into the trap, approaching to within a hundred yards of Slone, who suddenly showed himself on foot, rifle in hand. The deep gulch was a barrier to Slone's further progress, but his rifle dominated the situation. "Hold on!" he called, warningly. "Hold on yerself!" yelled the other, aghast, as he halted his horse. He gazed down and evidently was quick to take in the facts. Slone had meant to kill this man without even a word, yet now when the moment had come a feeling almost of sickness clouded his resolve. But he leveled the rifle. "I got it on you," he called. "Reckon you hev. But see hyar--" "I can hit you anywhere." "Wal, I'll take yer word fer thet." "All right. Now talk fast.... Are you one of Cordts's gang?" "Sure." "Why are you alone?" "We split down hyar." "Did you know I was on this trail?" "Nope. I didn't sure, or you'd never ketched me, red hoss or no." "Who were you trailin'?" "Ole Creech an' the girl he kidnapped." Slone felt the leap of his blood and the jerk it gave the rifle as his tense finger trembled on the trigger. "Girl.... What girl?" he called, hoarsely. "Bostil's girl." "Why did Cordts split on the trail?" "He an' Hutch went round fer some more of the gang, an' to head off Joel Creech when he comes in with Bostil's hosses." Slone was amazed to find how the horse thieves had calculated; yet, on second thought, the situation, once the Creeches had been recognized, appeared simple enough. "What was your game?" he demanded.