At any rate, there were no tracks anywhere save her own, so that he felt less anxiety over her safety than, when he had started out looking for her.
Andy knew these breaks pretty well.

He went over a rocky ridge, which Miss Allen had not tried to cross because to her it seemed exactly in the opposite direction from where she had started, and so he came to her horse again.

He untied the poor beast and searched for a possible trail over the ridge to where his own horse waited; and by the time he had found one and had forced the horse to climb to the top and then descend into the gulch, the darkness lay heavy upon the hills.
He picketed Miss Allen's horse with his rope', and fashioned a hobble for his own mount.

Then he ate a little of the food he carried and sat down to rest and smoke and consider how best he could find Miss Allen or the Kid--or both.

He believed Miss Allen to be somewhere not far away--since she was afoot, and had left her lunch tied to the saddle.
She could not travel far without food.
After a little he climbed back up the ridge to where he had noticed a patch of brush, and there he started a fire.