With these thongs we tied them, not uncomfortably, but firmly, their hands behind them and their feet fastened together. Then, as the night grew cold, Tish suggested that we shove them near the fire, which we did.
The young lady, however, offered a more difficult problem. We compromised by giving her her freedom, but arranging for one of our number to keep her covered with a revolver.
"You needn't be so thoughtful," she said angrily, and with a total lack of appreciation of Tish's considerate attitude. "I'd rather be tied, especially if the Moslem with the hay fever is going to hold the gun."
It was at that moment that we heard a whistle from across the stream, and each of the prostrate men raised his head eagerly. Before Tish could interfere one of them had whistled three times sharply, probably a danger signal.
Without a word Tish turned and ran toward the stream, calling to me to follow her.
"Tish!" I heard Aggie's agonized tone. "Lizzie! Come back. Don't leave me here alone. I--"
Here she evidently clutched the revolver involuntarily, for there was a sharp report, and a bullet struck a tree near us.
Tish paused and turned. "Point that thing up into the air, Aggie," she called back. "And stay there. I hold you responsible."
I heard Aggie give a low moan, but she said nothing, and we kept on.
The moon had now come up, flooding the valley with silver radiance. We found our horses at once, and Tish leaped into the saddle. Being heavier and also out of breath from having stumbled over a log, I was somewhat slower.
Tish was therefore in advance of me when we started, and it was she who caught sight of him first.
"He's got a horse, Lizzie," she called back to me. "We can get him, I think. Remember, he is unarmed."
Fortunately he had made for the trail, which was here wider than ordinary and gleamed white in the moonlight. We had, however, lost some time in fording the stream, and we had but the one glimpse of him as the trail curved.
Tish lashed her horse to a lope, and mine followed without urging. I had, unfortunately, lost a stirrup early in the chase, and was compelled, being unable to recover it, to drop the lines and clutch the saddle.
Twice Tish fired into the air. She explained afterward that she did this for the moral effect on the fugitive, but as each time it caused my horse to jump and almost unseat me, at last I begged her to desist.
We struck at last into a straight piece of trail, ending in a wall of granite, and up this the trail climbed in a switchback. Tish turned to me.