Casey kicked him in the flanks and urged him on.

It must be a camp fire, Casey thought.

He did not connect it with that moving light he had seen the night before; that phantom car was a mystery which he would probably never solve, and in Casey's opinion it had nothing to do with a camp fire that twinkled upon a distant hilltop.
From the look of it, Casey judged that it was perhaps eight miles off,-- possibly less.

But there was a rocky canyon or two between them, and William was lame and Casey was too exhausted to walk more than half a mile before he must lie down and own himself whipped.

Casey Ryan had never done that for a man, and he did not propose to do it for Nature.