Hampton forced the two into a rapid lope,
striving to make the most possible out of the narrow margin of daylight
remaining.
He had, by persistent questioning, acquired considerable information,
during that busy hour spent in Cheyenne, regarding the untracked
regions lying before him, as well as the character and disposition of
the man he pursued. Both by instinct and training he was able to
comprehend those brief hints that must prove of vast benefit in the
pathless wilderness. But the time had not yet arrived for him to dwell
on such matters. His thoughts were concentrated on Murphy. He knew
that the fellow was a stubborn, silent, sullen savage, devoid of
physical fear, yet cunning, wary, malignant, and treacherous. That was
what they said of him back in Cheyenne. What, then, would ever induce
such a man to open his mouth in confession of a long-hidden crime? To
be sure, he might easily kill the fellow, but he would probably die,
like a wild beast, without uttering a word.
There was one chance, a faint hope, that behind his gruff, uncouth
exterior this Murphy possessed a conscience not altogether dead.
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