He wanted to run the fellows down, to discover their identity.

Without thinking of personal danger, he ran forward on their trail, which led directly westward, along the line of cottonwoods.

These served to conceal his own movements, yet for the moment, burning with passion, he was utterly without caution, without slightest sense of peril.

He must know who was guilty of such a crime; he felt capable of killing them even as he would venomous snakes.

It was a perfectly plain trail to follow, for the fugitives, apparently convinced of safety, and confident their cowardly deed would be charged to Indian raiders, had made no particular effort at concealment, but had ridden away at a gallop, their horses' hoofs digging deeply into the soft turf.