He could hear nothing but the increasing thud of hoofs for a while, and then there was a sound that suggested stealthy footsteps in the darkness up the trail.

Alton crouched very still and waited, but the footsteps came no nearer, and then pitching up the rifle fired in their direction at a venture.

The sound ceased suddenly, and while the great trunks flung back the concussion it was evident that the rider was coming on at a furious gallop, and Alton rising sent out a hoarse cry, "Pull him before you come to the edge of the dip!" The beat of hoofs sank into silence, and a shout came down.

"Hallo.
Is that you, Harry ?" "Yes," said Alton.

"Lead your beast down." It was five minutes later when Seaforth found him leaning against a tree with the rifle in his hand.
"What was the shooting for, and where's your horse ?" said he.
Alton appeared to laugh softly and venomously, and his voice jarred upon the listener.