Prince.

"That fellow's no Injun," he called to his friend.

"Look!" Thursday was pointing to the saddle-back between two peaks at the
head of the arroyo.

A girl on horseback had just come over the summit and stood silhouetted
against the sky. Even in that moment while they watched her she realized
for the first time her danger. She turned to fly, and she and her horse
disappeared down the opposite slope. The Mescaleros swept up the hill
toward her.

"They'll git her! They'll sure git her!" cried Billie, making for his
horse.

The younger man ran limping to his cinnamon. At every step he winced, and
again while his weight rested on the wounded foot as he dragged himself
to the saddle. A dozen yards behind his companion he sent his horse
splashing through the creek.

The cowponies, used to the heavy going in the hills, took the slope in
short, quick plunges. Neither of the young men used the spur, for the
chase might develop into a long one with stamina the deciding factor. The
mesquite was heavy and the hill steep, but presently they struck a cattle
run which led to the divide.

Two of the Apaches stopped at the summit for a shot at their pursuers,
but neither of the young men wasted powder in answer. They knew that
close-range work would prove far more deadly and that only a chance hit
could serve them now.

From Billie, who had reached the crest first, came a cry of dismay. His
partner, a moment later, knew the reason for it. One of the Apaches,
racing across the valley below, was almost at the heels of the girl.

The cowpunchers flung their ponies down the sharp incline recklessly. The
animals were sure-footed as mountain goats. Otherwise they could never
have reached the valley right side up. It was a stretch of broken shale
with much loose rubble. The soft sandstone farther along had eroded and
there was a great deal of slack debris down which the horses slipped and
slid, now on their haunches and again on all fours.

The valley stretched for a mile before them and terminated at a rock wall
into which, no doubt, one or more canons cut like sword clefts. The
cowpunchers had picked mounts, but it was plain they could not overhaul
the Apaches before the Indians captured the girl.

Billie, even while galloping at full speed, began a long-distance fire
upon the enemy. One of the Mescaleros had caught the bridle of the young
woman's horse and was stopping the animal. It looked for a moment as if
the raide