yet dreamed of. There was no catching up, for the black mare could
gallop two to his horse's one; but be set his teeth and followed
into solid night, trusting ear, eye, guesswork and the God of Secret
Service men who loves the reckless.

Once in a minute or so be would see a spark, or a shower of them,
where the mare took a turn in a hurry. Once in every two or three
minutes he caught sight for a second of the same blue siren light
that had started the race. He suspected that there were many torches
placed at intervals. It could not be one man running. More than
once it occurred to him to draw and shoot, but that thought died
into the darkness whence it came. Never once while he rode did
he forget to admire the Rangar's courage or the black mare's speed.

His own horse developed a speed and stamina he had not suspected,
and probably the Rangar did not dare extend the mare to her limit
in the dark; at all events, for ten, perhaps fifteen, minutes of
breathless galloping he almost made a race of it, keeping the Rangar,
either within sight or sound.

But then the mare swerved suddenly behind a boulder and was gone.
He spurred round the same great rock a minute later, and was faced
by a blank wall of shale that brought his horse up all standing.
It led steep up for a thousand feet to the sky-line. There was
not so much as a goat-track to show in which direction the mare
had gone, nor a sound of any kind to guide him.

He dismounted and stumbled about on foot for about ten minutes with
his eyes two feet from the earth, trying to find some trace of hoof.
Then he listened, with his ear to the ground. There was no result.