He raised his eyes automatically to the woods and started.
"There IS something wrong over there," he said breathlessly.

"Look!" "I thee nothing," said Curson, beginning to doubt Low's sanity; "nothing more than I thaw an hour ago." "Look again.

Don't you see that smoke rising straight up?
It isn't blown over there from the Divide; it's new smoke! The fire is in the woods!" "I reckon that'th so," muttered Curson, shading his eyes with his hand.
"But, hullo! wait a minute! We'll get hortheth.

I say!" he shouted, forgetting his lisp in his excitement--"stop!" But Low had already lowered his head and darted forward like an arrow.
In a few moments he had left not only his companion but the last straggling houses of the outskirts far behind him, and had struck out in a long, swinging trot for the disused "cut-off." Already he fancied he heard the note of clamor in Indian Spring, and thought he distinguished the sound of hurrying hoofs on the great highway.

But the sunken trail hid it from his view.