ACROSS THE BORDER.

NOW came several days’ experience, so similar in its main features that it is not worth while to describe it in detail.

The Texans and Herbert Watrous pushed their ponies to the verge of prudence; but though the skill of the cowboys saved them from going astray, and there never was any danger of losing the trail of the fugitives, they failed to catch sight of them during that period.

They knew that Nick Ribsam rode a horse fully the equal, if not the superior, of those following him, and it was shown that Bell Rickard and Harman Slidham were well mounted. It was easy, therefore, for the three to cover the same ground as their pursuers, and, having as good a start, there was little prospect of the parties gaining sight of each other until those in advance chose to permit it.

Herbert Watrous will never forget that long ride through Western Texas. Had he not undergone a severe preparation he never could have stood it, for it seemed to him that he was in the saddle all the time, except when stretched on the earth asleep. Jill, his faithful pony, developed astonishing endurance, but though the Texans got everything possible out of the animals, they were too prudent to force them to a killing pace; all stood it well.

During that extended ride many streams were crossed. One of them was the North Fork of the Concho, properly the Colorado, on which the capital of Texas stands. Although at certain seasons this becomes a raging torrent, the horses forded it from bank to bank without once losing their feet. Indeed, only for a few paces did the water touch the stirrups of the riders.

There were other banks, separated by hundreds of feet, down which they rode into deep beds, where the signs showed the streams ran full at certain times with an enormous volume of water, but, like the current of the upper Rio Grande, they seemed dried up. Here and there were muddy pools, connected by tiny threads of water, which hardly moved, while elevations of the beds were met midway between the shores, where the hoofs of their horses actually stirred the dust.

In some portions of Texas the rise and subsidence of the streams are as sudden as those of Central Australia. At none of the numerous crossings were our friends obliged to swim their animals.

On the third day they were checked by a norther, which caught them in the middle of the plain, where nothing in the nature of a shelter was available. But the Texans met the crisis in an odd way.

First blanketing their ponies, they scooped out small, circular holes in the ground, into which they placed dried buffalo chips, and dried blades of grass. When these were fairly burning they folded their blankets about their bodies so as to envelop their heads, and then sat over the openings, allowing enough space to save the fires from being smothered. While the situation had its discomforts, it afforded a grateful degree of warmth, which none enjoyed more than Herbert, who could not help laughing at the comical figures they made.

The norther, which fortunately did not last long, was followed by a cold, drizzling rain, which would have been uncomfortable to the last degree but for the slickers of oiled linen that had been provided for such emergencies. The Texans, when they overtook the pack animals, made certain that these garments were secured, for it was inevitable that the long ride before them should be marked by occasional bad weather.

It was impossible to obtain good camping grounds at all times, though the party did not often suffer in this respect. While now and then they went a day with only a single meal, it cannot be said they actually suffered; but the main purpose of the pursuers was speed, and they were exasperated to find how cleverly Rickard held his own. Not only that, but there was reason to fear he was drawing away from them. It was impossible, even with the wonderful woodcraft of the pursuers, to make sure of this, for several hours cannot show a perceptible difference in the trail of three horsemen; but the Texans insisted that there was greater space between them than at the hour of opening the pursuit.

Since it was not believed that Rickard had a field glass with him, the pursuers would have gained a great advantage could they have got nigh enough to see him, which was the very thing they were unable to do.

I must not forget to make known one important fact. You will remember the real cause of Herbert Watrous’ journey across Texas, which was to regain the health that was seriously threatened by his bad habits and rapid growth. While he received vast benefit from breathing the pure air of the Southwest, it was his forced march, as it may be called, to New Mexico that did the splendid work for him.

The continuous exercise, the crystalline atmosphere, the deep, refreshing sleep, the abstention from tobacco, nourishing food (which, though only partially cooked and eaten at long intervals, was the very best diet he could have obtained), in short the “roughing it,” in the truest sense, was the true “elixir of life,” and wrought a change in the young man which, could his parents have witnessed, they would have pronounced marvellous.

The sickly complexion was succeeded by a ruddy brown, the effect of the wind, storms, and sun; his shoulders straightened, his slight, hacking cough vanished, and he felt every morning, noon, and night that he was gaining strength and health.

It has been said that no perfectly healthy person can suffer depression of spirits for a long time. Nature will rebound and lift him above the gloom. Herbert Watrous wondered more than once, while riding across the prairie, or lying upon the grass, or springing into the saddle in the morning, that he should be so buoyant and hopeful when the youth whom he loved best in all the world was in peril of his life. He reproved himself that he should feel thus, but, all the same, he could not help it.

This lightness of spirits was not wholly due to his rapidly improving health, but to the fact that he was convinced there was a growing reason to hope for the best. Whatever the vicious Rickard might intend to do with Nick Ribsam in the way of revenge, it was clear his instant taking off did not form a part of the scheme. The fact that, as the day passed, Nick still kept his place among the living, was good ground for hoping that he would continue to do so indefinitely. Better still, Strubell and Lattin agreed with him, though neither was as sanguine as Herbert himself.

There came one of those bright, perfect days, when the sunshine seemed more golden, the air clearer, and the sky bluer than is ever seen elsewhere. Herbert noticed that his companions were unusually interested in the surrounding scenery. The prairie was mostly of the rolling kind, though not to a marked degree, and the grass was so plentiful and succulent that the grazing could not have been improved. They had forded a small stream, and, gazing in any direction, nothing but the same apparently endless plain greeted the eye. Not a hill or mountain range was perceived in any portion of the horizon.

“Herbert,” said Strubell, looking across from his saddle, “in what part of the world do you suppose we are?”

“Why,” replied the youth, surprised by the question, “we must be well advanced into Western Texas.”

“We are in New Mexico,” said the Texan, with a smile, “and have been there for twenty-four hours.”

“That’s good news, though I was expecting it before long.”

“I wasn’t sure of the exact spot where we crossed the border, but it took place yesterday; we are beyond the twenty-sixth meridian, with the Sand Hills far to the east of us, and north of the thirty-second parallel.”

“And how much further to the ranch?”

“The Pecos is less than fifty miles away, and just on the other side of that is Mr. Lord’s ranch. Hello!” he added, quickly bringing his glass to his eyes; “we have seen a few Indians, but, if I am not mistaken, yonder comes a white man.”

Herbert was quick to bring his glass into use, and instantly saw that his friend was right. An individual was drawing near who was destined to play an important part in the stirring incidents at hand.