"Now, you might
consider it advisable that I and one of the troopers should head for
the ford at Willow Hollow, sir."
"Yes," said the young officer, who was quite aware that there were as
yet many things connected with his duties he did not know. "Now I come
to think of it, Sergeant, I do. We'll give you two hours, and then, if
you don't turn up, ride over after you; it's condemnably shivery
waiting for nothing here."
Stimson saluted and shook his bridle, and rather less than an hour
later faintly discerned a rattle of wheels that rose from a long way
off across the prairie. Then he used the spur, and by and by it became
evident that the drumming of their horses' feet had carried far, for,
though the rattle grew a little louder, there was no doubt that whoever
drove the wagon had no desire to be overtaken. Still, two horses
cannot haul a vehicle over a rutted trail as fast as one can carry a
man, and when the wardens of the prairie raced towards the black wall
of birches that rose higher in front of them, the sound of wheels
seemed very near. It, however, ceased suddenly, and was followed by a
drumming that could only have been made by a galloping horse.
"One beast!" said the Sergeant. "Well, they'd have two men, any way,
in that wagon. Get down and picket. We'll find the other fellow
somewhere in the bluff."
They came upon him within five minutes endeavoring to cut loose the
remaining horse from the entangled harness in such desperate haste that
he did not hear them until Stimson grasped his shoulder.
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