and two big pistols were ever his companions.

For a minute no one made a move to accept the captain’s offer, and then with: “Come on, John,” Ree Kingdom waited no longer. In a twinkling the boys unharnessed the horses, leaving only the bridles on them, and were mounted. Tom Huson, the blacksmith and Peter Piper, a half-breed Indian, a sort of roustabout in the neighborhood, had also hurriedly prepared to join in the chase.

“Take my twins, lads, they bite as hard as they bark,” called Captain Bowen, passing his brace of pistols up to Ree and John, and in another moment the party was galloping in pursuit of the big fellow whose crime might yet be murder, Dr. Cartwright having reported that only time could tell.

“Who-ho-ho-ho-ho!” John Jerome could not resist the temptation to give an Indian war-whoop. There is an exhilaration in a rapid ride by moonlight at any time, and with the clatter of the hoofs of a half dozen horses upon the beaten road, the forms of other riders, shadowy and ghost-like on either side to lend a feeling of companionship, and a knowledge of danger’s presence to make every sense the more alert, there is no finer excitement. Little wonder is it that John could not repress a yell, and though of a much quieter disposition, Ree felt like shouting, also.

“Who-ho-ho-ho!” John yelled again, a half hour later, and the women and children ran to the door of a house they were passing to see who it might be that was dashing by at such breakneck speed. The air came soft and cool to the riders half hidden in the shadows of the trees which bordered the road, though the moon was shining gloriously.

“We will send you on ahead to tell Pete we are coming, if you are so fond of making it known, youngster,” exclaimed the constable as John gave still another whoop.

“He’d have a cat fit if he knew you were after him, I’ll wager,” the boy answered, nettled by the man’s sarcasm. “Suppose I do ride on and let him know.”

John leaned back and slapped his horse’s flank. The animal, scarcely more than a colt, sprang forward at great speed. At the same time the young rider raised up on his knees, then on his feet and keeping his balance with seeming ease, standing nearly erect, the horse running its fastest, he held the reins in one hand, waved his hat in the other, and again yelled like an Indian.

“That young dare-devil will kill himself one of these days,” said the blacksmith. “That colt of Captain Bowen’s is likely to take it into her head to bring up short at any minute. Better call him back, Kingdom.”

Ree had no fear that his friend could not take care of himself, but in answer to the suggestion, he gave a shrill, peculiar whistle which made the woodland ring. Like a shot John dropped to a sitting posture as he heard the call, and in another minute Ree had ridden up beside him. Before either could speak, a black object loomed up in the narrow road and they had barely time to rein their horses in before they were upon it, the animals leaping sidewise to avoid a collision.

“Big Pete’s wagon, sure as shooting! It’s broken down!” ejaculated Ree.

“Scotland! Where would I have landed if I had been standing up and this colt had run into it?” John exclaimed. As he spoke the others of their party came up.

“Here’s the wagon, but Pete and the horses are gone,” called Ree. “He can’t be far ahead.”

“There’s no telling. Hurry on,” answered the constable who had hastily sprung off his horse to examine the wreck. “Here are the harnesses, but Pete is trying to get away with both horses. Keep your wits about you, boys, there is likely to be some shooting!”

Ree had been the first to start forward, and was one hundred yards in advance of the others when his quick eye detected the dim outlines of a man on horseback in the shadow of a low branching oak just before him at the roadside. He recognized the huge figure of Big Pete and without a word guided his horse straight toward the fellow. The criminal saw him and with a yell started off.

Ree’s horse with a splendid bound cleared the ditch beside the highway, and in another moment the boy had seized the bridle of the horse Big Pete was leading, just as the fellow was getting the animal he bestrode under rapid way for a race for his liberty. It was clear that he had been delayed by the breaking down of the wagon, and had hidden at the roadside hoping his pursuers would pass him by. With a determined grip Ree clung to the bridle of the lead horse, though he was nearly jerked to the ground. With his other hand he sought to check his own animal, but the skittish young thing had taken fright and was now running ahead of the flying criminal’s horses.

A great out-cry came from the constable and his party as they saw what had happened and dug spurs into their mounts. Down the road the pursued and pursuers raced, Ree Kingdom wholly unable to retard Big Pete’s progress but still clinging to the bridle of the horse between them, the constable and his men trying their best to overtake the fugitive, but unable to gain on him.

“Shoot! why don’t you shoot?” yelled Ree to his friends at last, and a pair of pistols cracked simultaneously, a third and fourth rapidly following.

Ree heard the bullets whistle near his head and realized that he was in almost as much danger of being hit, as Big Pete. But again he cried:

“Shoot!”

The pursuers were slowly but surely falling behind in the race. The burly Ellis, glancing back, was quick to see that fortune favored him. He leaned far over from his horse and before Ree Kingdom could detect his purpose in the dusky light, seized the boy by the neck. With a giant’s strength he pulled the lad partially from his seat, endeavoring to hurl him to the ground. Failing, he relinquished his hold on the reins, and using both hands, succeeded in drawing Kingdom over the unridden horse between them to the shoulders of his own horse. And then with herculean efforts he tried to throw the boy to the earth.

But Ree held to his own horse’s reins with bull dog ferocity, and with all his strength resisted the other’s effort. As he was jerked from his seat, however, the strain on the reins caused his horse to sharply swerve inward, crowding against the other animals, and in a twinkling the three of them, already frantic with the fury of their wild race, left the course and sped across a woodland at the unfenced roadside.

Gasping an oath, the enraged giant tried again to push Ree to the ground, and this time he succeeded; but he himself went off head-foremost with the boy, who held to his arm with a grip of steel, dragging him suddenly down. Freed of their burden, the horses ran on, Big Pete cursing frightfully as he sprang to his feet to find them far beyond his reach.

Lying still, bruised but not seriously hurt by his fall, Ree Kingdom was thinking fast. He felt for his pistol inspired by the thought that he would capture the criminal yet, and wishing he had used it earlier. But the weapon was gone—lost in the wild ride, no doubt. The next instant Ellis swiftly turned and seized him by the throat; and he knew that his life was in the giant’s hands.

With the horses gone beyond recapture, Big Pete must needs depend on his own legs if he meant to escape. The constable’s party could not be far behind, and with the boy, whose throat he clutched, to point the way in which he