There was no moon in the sky, but the millions of stars were never more brilliant. In the clear atmosphere they gave enough illumination to show quite well where he trod, except when threading through the willows or passing close to the towering masses of rocks. Inasmuch as he had decided to keep up the effort to reach the next station, the obvious thing to do was to follow in the hoof prints left by the pony. Doubtless he was making for the station and would reach it within the coming hour. What would the agents think when he dashed up without rider, saddle or mail pouches? What could they think except that the man had been killed and the bags stolen?