and the Pioneers had seen the Faith Healer enter. They had had four
miles' start of Tim, and had ridden fiercely, and they entered the gulch
into which the refugee had disappeared still two miles ahead.

The invincibles had seen Tim coming, but they had determined to make a
sure thing of it, and would themselves do what was necessary with the
impostor, and take no chances. So they pressed their horses, and he saw
them swallowed by the trees, as darkness gathered. Changing his course,
he entered the familiar hills, which he knew better than any pioneer of
Jansen, and rode a diagonal course over the trail they would take. But
night fell suddenly, and there was nothing to do but to wait till
morning. There was comfort in this--the others must also wait, and the
refugee could not go far. In any case, he must make for settlement or
perish, since he had left behind his sheep and his cow.

It fell out better than Tim hoped. The Pioneers were as good hunters as
was he, their instinct was as sure, their scouts and trackers were many,
and he was but one. They found the Faith Healer by a little stream,
eating bread and honey, and, like an ancient woodlander drinking from a
horn--relics of his rank imposture. He made no resistance. They tried
him formally, if perfunctorily; he admitted his imposture, and begged for
his life. Then they stripped him naked, tied a bit of canvas round his
waist, fastened him to a tree, and were about to complete his punishment
when Tim Denton burst upon them.

Whether the rage Tim showed was all real or not; whether his accusations
of bad faith came from so deeply wounded a spirit as he would have them
believe, he was not likely to tell; but he claimed the prisoner as his
own, and declined to say what he meant to do.