How far it was to the reservation he did not know, but there would be light enough in another hour to see the men who had carried off the liquor.

Then he began to wonder where the latter were, for there was now no sign of them.
Suddenly, when the wind dropped for a moment, a faint rattle of wheels reached them from the depths of the wood, and the teamster raised his hand.
"Pretty close," he said.

"Come on as cautious as you can.

The reservation's not far away, and we don't want them to get there much before us." They rode a little more slowly; but when the rattle of wheels and thud of hoofs grew sharply distinct in another lull, the man struck his horse.
"They've heard us!" he cried.

"We've got to run them down!" George urged his beast, and there was a crackle of brush about him as the black trees streamed past.