As a matter of fact, he was trying to put Evadna out of his
mind for the present, so that he could think clearly of what he
ought to do. He glanced often up at the rim-rock as he rode
slowly to the Point o' Rocks, and when he was halfway to the turn
he thought he saw something moving up there.
He pulled up to make sure, and a little blue ball puffed out like
a child's balloon, burst, and dissipated itself in a thin,
trailing ribbon, which the wind caught and swept to nothing. At
the same time something spatted into the trail ahead of him,
sending up a little spurt of fine sand.
Keno started, perked up his ears toward the place, and went on,
stepping gingerly. Good Indian's lips drew back, showing his
teeth set tightly together. "Still at it, eh?" he muttered
aloud, pricked Keno's flanks with his rowels, and galloped around
the Point.
There, for the time being, he was safe. Unless the shooter upon
the rim-rock was mounted, he must travel swiftly indeed to reach
again a point within range of the grade road before Good Indian
would pass out of sight again.
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