The Ordway new era., 1917-08-03


Hardy started after these last, hold
ing his mare to her usual steady trot.
When he came up the road to the head
of the gulley, those who had gone be-
fore him were all quite a distance
ahead, with Vandervyn still in the
lead. Midway between the mouth of
the valley and the agency. the long
striding mare began to pass ponies
whose riders had thought better Of
their whirlwind start. Others were
still Looping In swift pursuit of Wander
vyn.
Hardy walked the mare up the slope
of the agency terrace. He saw moth
ing of Dupont or Marie, and the In
dlans had moved away with their te-
pees. But In the rear of the ware
house he caught glimpse of two In
dian policemen removing the load from
Vandervyn's pack pony. His face
clouded. He put the mare into a gal
lop.
All the way to the head of the val
ley Hardy held to steady gallop. One
after another, he passed the remaining
leaders. The best of the ponies were
no match in speed with the big thor
oughbred.
At last only Vandervyn was ahead.
AS Hardy overhauled and forged past
Vandervyn, the young fellow turned
and met his gaze with look of mock
ing hate. HARDY glanced back sew
crul times, prepared to fling himself
fat alongside the pommel of his sad
die. His uneasiness did not lessen
when few minutes later Vandervyn
halted. and scrambled down from the
trail to get drink out of the creek.
The crease in Hardy's forehead deep
ened.
Ahead, the walls of the canyon were
sloping back into the widened valley
where had been the first Indian camp.
Dogs, Indians and tepees, all were
gone. Only a brush-walled dance
lodge remained to mark the camp site.
AS the mare pounded past, she curved
her outstretched neck toward the
lodge and whinnied. Hardy heard no
answer to the call, but his frown sud-
denly deepened.
He reached forward and stroked
the mares sleek neck. Hot as had
been the race from the agency, she
had not turned hair. His frOwn re-
laxed. Yet his tight lips showed that
he was still uneasy. He balanced him
self in his stlrrups, and began to ride
as lightly as possible.
Ascending the mountainside, he was
compelled to content himself with the
mares nervous, long-strided walk.
But whenever the trail was not 100
steep or rough, he put her into trot,
and varied the pace with an occasional
short gallop.
An hour passed. He was already
we'll into the mountains. He came to
succession of steep climbs and de-
scents that held the mare down to a
walk. Presently he thought he heard
hoofbeats behind him. He listened.
He had not been mistaken. An un-
shod horse was coming up with him at
steady jog trot.
It seemed impossible that Wander
vyn's pinto could have SO recuperated
from that whirlwind heading Of the
rush as to be able to take this steep
trail at trot. Hardy gazed back, ex-
pecting to see one Of the cowboys. As
he went down over ridge crest, the
rider came up the ridge back across
the intervening gulch. The man
snatched off his broad-brimmed hat to
wave salute. The sun glinted with a
golden sheen on the unmistakaDie
blond head Of vandervyn.
At the first small break in the de-
scent Hardy dismounted, unsaddled,
and sponged out the mares mouth and
nostrils with water from his canteen.
He then shook out and refolded his
Navajo saddle blanket, and started to
resaddle. But before he buckled the
cinch-strap he shifted the pistol from
his breast to front pocket in his rid
ing breeches.
He was vigorously grooming the
mare when vandervyn came jogging
down through the thickets Of tall brush
that grew close on each side of the
trail. He did not pause in his rub
bing until the nimble-footed unshod
pony ambled into view, less than a
dozen yards up the trail. Then he
glanced about, Strengthened, and stood
staring. The pony was a pinto.
vandervyn, smiling with insolent ex-
ultance, rode down to him, his right
hand jauntily poised on his hip, over
the hilt of his revolver. His eyes
challenged his rival with an audacious,
provoking stare. But Hardy looked
only at the pinto. There was no sign
of sweat lather on his rough coat. no
weariness in his gait. He was fresh
.Lots of comeback to a bronco.
captain," purred vandervyn. Sorry
to see that you've stove up your mare.
She's too highbred for q rocky road
like this. But you might take on her