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When night overtook him Tom did not know whether he had crossed the border, there being no mark to indicate where Kansas left off and the Indian Territory began. He was of the opinion that he must have crossed, as the change in the driven herd of horses indicated that the thieves had slowed their gait. For an hour or more, six or seven miles, the trail had shown this slacking up in the flight. Once over the line, where a Kansas officer would look no more formidable than the next man, the thieves' concern was at rest.

Weary from his long ride to Drumwell and back, and this day's chase, Tom made camp when it grew too dark to follow the trail with certainty. It appeared likely the thieves had not split the herd, confident in the security of their refuge. The old cattle trail continued on toward the southwest, approaching the crossing of a stream which he took to be the Salt Fork of the Arkansas, there being no other considerable river near the border. This was still several miles ahead of him; before dark he had seen its wooded course from high ground.

Here at his camping-place the country had changed from treeless prairie to a park-like plain set with crabapple, red-haw and other small trees, with an elm here and there, dark and tent-like, the thick foliage still green and untouched by frost. The country had the appearance