of several rifles fired so nearly together that he could not tell the number. They came from a point diagonally in front, but at a considerable distance. He paused, undecided what to do.
There was no guessing the meaning of the alarm, but naturally he accepted the worst construction. The guns must have been discharged by Indians with a sinister purpose. Probably one of the Pony Express Riders had fallen, as others had fallen before him and others were to fall in the remaining months of the service.
Alden paused for ten or more minutes and then resumed his tramp. It seemed to him that the spot where the guns were fired was well to the right. Still it was likely the trail veered in that direction, for no mortal man ever saw a path that was straight, unless laid out by compass and rule.
There was an additional reason for not lighting a match, for it might catch the eye of some of the dusky prowlers. Consequently Alden pushed on stealthily and slowly. Frequently he paused and listened. The trail could change without his being aware of it, for in his situation he had no means of judging.
