Angel galloped her dapple gray mare along the line of hoofprints, hoping she wouldn't have to be out here long. From the way the hoofprints were aligned, Angel knew that because of Lone Star and Kuzuma, they could only be going at a trot. She felt hope rise in her throat.
The hoofprints were fresh, which meant the horses must have been stolen at about five in the morning. It was seven now and the rustlers where only going at a trot, probably due to Kuzuma. Angel was galloping, so she would probably catch them soon.
The hoofprints suddenly veered off to one side and Angel had to pull Gypsy's head around jerkily. But Gypsy didn't mind. She couragously followed the hoofprints for all she was worth, and soon they came to a field.
Angel shuddered -- it was the rickety old house from her dreams! Angel almost didn't want to go there. She pulled Gypsy to a halt and looked at the house. Angel was trying to decide if she should go, but then Gypsy made up her mind. As if determind to rescue Lone Star herself, Gypsy set off at a trot toward the house. Angel knew she should trust her horse, so she pushed Gypsy to a canter and set off toward the gloomy brown house, wondering what she would find.
