stooped to the ground the faint, far-off beats of horses' hoofs reached
his quick ear.

"Dan! Cook! Wake up! Get up lively!" he cried, as he made a dash for his
saddle and threw it on his horse. "They are after us."

The camp was instantly in commotion, the saddles thrown over the horses
and tightened with ready and experienced hands, and vaulting into the
saddles the three men rode out into the bright moonlight as a company of
ten men, armed to the teeth, swept like a whirlwind around the edge of
the timber.

A yell reached the ears of the three fugitives as they galloped out on
the prairie and a voice, clear and commanding, rang out in tones
familiar to Moriarity, who had heard them in the cooper-shop when the
tramp commanded him to hold out his hands.

"There they are lads. Forward!"

Uttering a deep round oath Dan turned in his saddle, giving the horse
the head, and leveling his rifle fired point-blank at the pursuing
party.

A cry of derision greeted the shot, and Cummings, saying "Hold your
shots, you fool," drove his spurs cruelly into the horse's flanks and,
followed closely by his companions, dashed down the trail toward
Swanson's ranche.