man I encountered at Hot Springs, Captain Fox—the fellow Taylor we are in pursuit of."
The captain stared into the black night, silent for several minutes.
"I've been suspecting the same thing for the last three hours," he admitted at last slowly, "and that he hoped we would follow him. The fellow hasn't ridden fast, and has purposely left a plain trail. More than that he was expected along this road, and there were relays of horses waiting. He only changed once, but he was met by another party near that ruined mill. Ever since then I have felt that we were being watched by unseen eyes. Did you observe the curl of smoke to our right just before dark—how it rose and fell in rings?"
"I saw the smoke, yes—a thin spiral, but supposed it to be from the chimney of some mountain shack."
"Well, it was not. That was an outside fire, and the smoke was smothered, and then thrown up by blankets. That is their way of signaling. I tell you, Lieutenant, this murder of Harwood is more than an army matter. It was either the culmination of a feud—done for personal revenge; or else the Major had papers in his possession bearing on the situation here that could only be gained over his dead body. The man who killed him was old Ned Cowan."
