On the Trail of Justice
The rider on the buckskin took his time, studying the trail, and, by turns, the terrain ahead. He could tell by the way sand occasionally fell into a hoof print that he was not far behind his quarry. The horse he was following had been ridden hard, and from the way the hooves scraped sand between steps, must have been on its last legs. The heat made the air shimmer as he studied the rocks and brush ahead for any sign of the man he had chased halfway across the territory. Yesterday, they had...