By the time he arrived at the spot where he had first seen the horse and rider he had become convinced that Taggart had secreted himself until he had passed him and had then ridden over the back trail, later to return to the Arrow by a circuitous route.
Calumet determined to cut across the country and intercept him, and he drove the spurs into Blackleg and raced him through the wood.

His trail took him into a section which led to the slope which the horses drawing the wagon had taken on the night of the ambush.

He was tearing through this when he broke through the edge of a clearing about a quarter of a mile from the ranchhouse.

At about the center of the clearing Blackleg came to a jarring, dizzying stop, rearing high on his hind legs.

When he came down he whinnied and backed, and, peering over his shoulder to see what had frightened him, Calumet saw the body of a man lying at the edge of a mesquite clump.
With his six-shooter in hand, Calumet dismounted and walked to the man.
The latter was prone in the dust, on his face, and as Calumet leaned over him the better to peer into his face--for he thought the man might be Taggart--he heard a groan escape his lips.