Dick dashed after the fugitive, but he had disappeared utterly, and the
dense bushes impeded the pursuer. He was hot and angry that he had been
deluded so cleverly, but then came the consolation that, after all,
he had won in the fistic encounter with an antagonist worthy of anybody.
And after this came a second thought that caused him to halt abruptly.

He and Woodville had fought it out fairly. Their fists had printed upon
the faces of each other the stamp of a mutual liking. Why should he
strive to take young Woodville before Colonel Winchester? Nothing was
to be gained by it, and, as the Mississippian was in civilian's garb,
he might incur the punishment of a spy. He realized in a flash that,
since he had vindicated his own prowess, he was glad of Woodville's
escape.

He turned and walked thoughtfully back up the ravine. Very little
noise came from the house and the thin spires of smoke had disappeared.
He knew now that the fires had been put out with ease, thanks to his
quick warning. Before starting he had recovered both his own pistol and
Woodville's, and he was particularly glad to find the latter because it
would be proof of his story, if proof were needed. The rain had not
ceased nor had the heavy darkness lifted, but the looming shadow of the
big house was sufficient guide. He found the place where he had slipped
down the bank and the torn bushes and grass showed that he had made a
fine trail. He pulled himself back up by the bushes and reentered the
garden, where he was halted at once by two watchful sentries.

"Lieutenant Richard Mason of Colonel Winchester's staff," he said,
"returning from the pursuit of a fugitive."

The men knew him and they said promptly: