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On that south slope under the Rim the sun beat down hot There was no breeze to te, ith sweat, parching with thirst, dusty and hot and tiring It aedness and tenacity of life shown by this wounded rustler The ti rays of the sun he was compelled to abandon the walk across the tips of the , open threads that ran between It would have been poor sight indeed that could not have followed Queen's labyrinthine and broken passage through the brush Then the ti like a black bug along the bright-green slope Sight then acted upon Jean as upon a hound in the chase But he governed his actions if he could not govern his instincts Slowly but surely he followed the dusty, hot trail, and never a patch of blood failed to send a thrill along his veins

Queen, headed up toward the Ri? But the hour disclosed that he was crawling Jean's keen eye caught the slowof the brush and enabled hie of the six-shooters he carried And so all the interht and pursuit kept on

Halfway up the Riave place to open, yellow, rocky slope dotted with cedars Queen took to a slow-ascending ridge and left his bloody tracks all the way to the top, where in the gathering darkness the weary pursuer lost theht was relentless to the rustler He could not hide his trail But soth he reached a point on the heavily ti near the scene of the fight in the canyon Queen was nearing the rendezvous of the rustlers Jean crossed tracks of horses, and then more tracks that he was certain had been e must be the deep canyon that had frustrated his efforts to catch up with the rustlers on the day Blaisdell lost his life, and probably Bill Isbel, too So the end of the trail, and an unaccountable sense of iue dreads and doubts in his gloomy mind Jean felt the need of rest, of food, of ease from the strain of the last weeks But his spirit drove him implacably