"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.