it was the wonderful sagacity of the little mare which intervened at this crisis in the fate of her rider.
she was no more than fairly stretched away on a dead run from the new peril when she shot into an arroya or depression in the prairie. such a depression suggests the dry bed of a stream through which the water may not have flowed for years. it is sometimes a few feet only in width, and again it may be a number of rods. the rich, alluvial soil often causes a luxuriant growth of grass, cottonwood or bush, which affords the best of grazing and refuge for any one when hard pressed by the enemy.
the arroya into which queenie plunged had gently sloping sides, and was perhaps fifty feet wide. the bottom was covered not only with grass, but with the thin undergrowth to which allusion has been made, and which was so frail in character that it offered no impediment to the passage of a running horse.
sterry's expectation was that his mare would shoot across the depression and up the other bank with the least possible delay; but of her own accord, and without suggestion from him, she turned abruptly to the left and dropped to a walk.
he was astounded, and was on the point of speaking impatiently to her as he jerked the bridle-rein, when the occurrence already referred to took place, and made the action of the animal seem like an inspiration or instinct approaching the height of reason.
at the moment she made the sharp turn to the left, another horseman galloped up the opposite slope and off upon the prairie. by an amazing coincidence it happened that he was in the arroya, and in the act of crossing in the same direction with the fugitive, when the furious plunge of the mare sent his own bounding up the farther bank.
sterry caught the situation like a flash. before queenie had gone more than a half-dozen rods he brought her to a standstill. they resembled an equestrian statue, so motionless were they for a full minute.
the converging parties of pursuers could plainly see the second horseman speeding away from the other side, and inevitably concluded that he was the inspector whom they wanted. they were after him hot-footed on the instant.
this man was ira inman, a well-known rustler, and the intimate friend of larch cadmus. when he saw himself pursued by a half-dozen of his friends he reined up, and calmly but wonderingly awaited their arrival, which took place within the next few seconds.
"up with your hands! quick about it, too! you're the man we want!"
"wal," replied the leader, surveying them with a grin, and paying no heed to their fierce commands, "now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?"
if there ever were a set of dumbfounded men, they were the rustlers who closed about the leader and recognized him in the moonlight. the remarks that followed his identification were as ludicrous as they were vigourous.
the majority believed he had played a trick on them in pretending to be mont sterry, whom all were so anxious to bring down; but there were one or two who were not satisfied. they knew the voice of the inspector, which in no way resembled the gruff tones of inman. then, their leader was not given to practical jokes.
"what set you to hunting me so hard?" he asked, after the first flurry was over.
"we're looking for mont sterry."
"wal, what made you take me for him? do i look like him in the moonlight?"
"but you said you were, and fired at us," explained one.
"fired at you? said i was that chap? what in the mischief are you driving at?"
one, who suspected the truth, now interposed.
"we did meet sterry and hailed him; you must have heard our guns; he dashed into the arroya; we saw you gallop out on t'other side, and took you for him."
"ah, i understand it all now," replied inman; "i had ridden down there on my way back from a little scout, when a horseman dashed into the slope behind me like a thunderbolt. my horse was so scared that he went up the other side on the jump, and before i could turn around to find out what it all meant, you lunkheads came down on me with the request to oblige you by throwing up my hands, which i will see you hanged before i'll do."
"but where is he? what has become of him?" asked several, looking around, as thought they expected to see the young man ride forward and surrender himself.
"wal, calling to mind the kind of horse he rides, i should say he is about a half-mile off by this time, laughing to find out how cleverly he has fooled you chaps."
"it looks as if you was in the same boat, inman," retorted one of the chagrined party.
"i wasn't chasing sterry."
"he seemed to be chasing you, for you came out of the arroya ahead of him."
"if he was chasing me," replied the leader, who felt that the laugh was on his companions, "he would have followed me out; but i don't see anything of him;" and he, too, stared around, as though not sure the man would not do the improbable thing named.
"it was a blamed cute trick, any way you look at it," remarked one of the party. "it was queer that you should have been there, inman, just at the minute needed. but for that, we would have had him, sure."
"wal, you can make up your mind that we have him as good as catched already. he can't get out of the country without some of the boys running against him, and the first rustler that catches sight of mr. sterry will drop him in his tracks."
"if he gets the chance to do it," was the wise comment of another. "that fellow is quick on the shoot and isn't afraid of any of us."
"he ain't the first one that's made that mistake, only to find himself rounded up at last. larch cadmus' idea of 24 hours' notice don't go down with this crowd, eh?"
and the crowd unanimously responded in the negative.
