The weekly times-record. (Valley City, N.D.) 1912-1922, 1915-02-25
Continued from Thursday
CHAPTER XII.
The Trail Of Flying Hoof-Prints.

eastern rampant mad Crept SLOWLY
down the canyons western wall, tele-
scoped upon itself and vanished, let
ting in the sun to make the place a
pit Of torment and of burning.
Refreshed from rest and eXhilarated
by this grateful GOODNESS, his horse
responded willingly to the first light
touch of Alans spur In twinkling
the overnight camp dropped from view
behind the rounded shoulder of a hill
side, mesquite-cloaked.
Then from It's first spirited flight
the horse settled down to steady 60
ing, heightened it's stride, and ran for
leagues with the long, apparently ef-
fortress and tireless lope of the plains
bred broncho, ventre-a-terre.
Alan's departure from camp had an
ticipated by round quarter-hour the
appearance on the upper trail Of
friends of the slain bandit, to the
number of four or five, who had both
discovered and recovered his body,
called his death murder and pledged
themselves to it's avengement-laying
responsibility for the putative crime
at the door Of the man and woman
to be seen in the canyon, Immediately
below the scene of Hopi Jim's fail.
Between the moment when discov-
cry Of the men on the ridge trail in
terrupted their simple and hurried
breakfast and that which found Rose
and Barcus mounted on the back of
their own horse and making the best
of their way down the canyon in pur-
suit CT Alan, but little time had
elapsed.
And even with it's double burden,
their horse made better time upon
the broad lower level than those who
followed the ridge trail. BY mid morn
ing, when they approached the foot
hills that ran down to the desert, the
pursuit was more than mile in the
rear and shut off to boot by a mono.
lithic hill, while Alan was many a
weary mile in advance.
He sat upon his horse, just them at
stardsti!l u tie summit Of a round
ed knoll, the Painted hills lifting up
behind him, the desert before unfold
ing like a map-but like a map all
blurred
Only in the near foreground was
anything definite to be distinguished
In the aspect of that sunbitten waste
bleached earth patterned in almost or
derby arrangement by sagebrush and
snarled cacti At the distance of half
a mile all blended into one vast plain
OF glaring gray that stretched over
the round of the world to a broken
wall of purple hills that reeled drunk.
emily in the haze-veiled southwest.
Was Judith out there, somewhere,
lost, defenseless, forlorn, impotent to
lift hand to shield her face from the
blast of that savage sun?
Staring beneath shading hand, he
discerned nothing that moved upon
the surface of the desert but its
myriad heat-devils jigging monoto.
nously their internal danse macabre.
Or--as seemed more probable-was
she back there among the Painted
hills, lying still and lifeless, crushed
beneath the weight Of that fallen
horse?
7 No rest for Alan till he knew
Descending the knoll he refined his
tagging mount back into the trail, fol-
lowing It's winding course through the
foothills and round the base of that
mouolithic mountain toward the juno
ton with the ridge trail, miles away.
1t approached the hour Of noon be-
fore he gained the point where the
two trails joined and struck out across
the desert. And here he discovered
what he thought indisputable indca-
ton that the fright Of Judith's horse
had persisted.
Abandoning Immediately all notion
of returning through the hills by the
ridgetrail, he turned and swung away
at the best pace he could spur from
his broncho, delivering himself into
the pitiless embrace Of that implaca-
Bile wilderness of sun and sand.
At long intervals he would check
the broncho and, Keeling in his saddle,
endeavor to sweep the desert with his
Binoculars
And toward the middle of the after
noon he fancied that something re-
warded one such effort; something
for an instant swan athwart the field
Of the glasses: something that seemed
Ia move like a weary horse with a
human figure bound to it's back.
But now the phenomena were dis
cernible which, had he been more des-
ert wise, would have made him pause
and think before he ventured farther
from those hills, already beyond
reach as they were.
His first appreciated warning came
when the surface OF the desert seemed
to lift and shake like the top OF q
canvas tent in a gale. At the same
time a mighty gust Of wind swept
athwart the waste, hot as furnace
blast. In trice dust enveloped man
and horse, a sitting cloud of super
heated particles that stung the flesh
like myriad needles. AID then dark
ness fell, the twilight Of hades, a cop
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