and they would not dare to pursue him long. He glanced back. They
were a full hundred yards in the rear, riding all four abreast. He
remembered his own pistol, and, drawing it from his belt, he sent a
bullet toward the pursuit. It was too long a range for serious work,
but he intended it as a warning that he, too, was armed and would fight.

The road still ran through the forest with the hills close on the left.
Up went the sun, casting a golden glory over the white earth. Harry
beheld afar only a single spire of smoke. The houses were few in that
region, and he might go four or five miles without seeing a single human
being, save those who pursued. But he was not afraid. His confidence
lay chiefly in the powerful animal that he rode, and he saw the distance
between him and the four men lengthen from a hundred to two hundred
yards. One of them fired another shot at him, but it only shook the
snow from a tree fifteen feet away. He could not keep from sending back
a taunting cry.

On went the sun up the curve of the heavens, and the brilliant light
grew. The forest thinned away. The line of hills retreated, and before
him lay fields, extending to both right and left. The eye ranged over
a great distance and he counted the smoke of five farm houses. He
believed that the men would not pursue him into the open country,
but he urged his horse to greater speed, and did not turn in his saddle
for a quarter of an hour. When he finally looked back the mountaineers
were gone. He could see clearly a half-mile, and he knew now that his
surmise had come true. They dared to pursue only in the forest, and
having failed, they would withdraw into the hills.

He drew his horse down to a walk, patted his shoulder, and spoke to him
words of approval. He was not sorry now that he had passed through the