k some time for Bradley to
unhitch and dispose of the horses to his satisfaction, and theirs, and
his mumblings and the sound of their moving about and champing their
bits fell a long time on Kate's drowsy ears. Belle went to sleep at
once, and though sleep was the last thing Kate expected to achieve, she
did fall asleep--with the Crazy Woman singing wildly in her ears.

She had hardly lost herself, it seemed, when Bradley roused his
passengers. The storm waters were creeping up over the bench where
they had camped and with much impatient sputtering, Bradley hitched the
pole team to the stage and, in his pet, retreated into the hills for
assured safety. Even the noise of the flood failed to follow them
there and they disposed themselves once more to rest.

How long she slept this time, Kate did not know, but she was awakened
by voices.

The night had grown very cold and death itself could not have been more
silent. Yet at intervals Kate heard the low converse of two voices;
they were not far away and both were men's.

A panic seized her. Her heart beat like the roll of a drum and then
nearly stopped. What might happen now? she asked herself. And what
could she fear but the worst? In the dead of night--marooned in a wild
country, with only a queer woman and two strange men. Could it be a
plot? she asked herself. In the fear that gripped her she could hardly
breathe, and to think was only to invite added agonies of apprehension.
She sat quickly up, breathing hurriedly now and her heart racing. Then
she heard the even breathing of her companion on the seat ahead. To
make sure it was she, Kate put her hand over and touched Belle's
shoulder. Reassured a little, but ready to push aside the curtain and
spring from the stage at the least alarm, Kate listened painfully; the
voices reached her ears again.

One was Bradley's--of that she felt sure; the other, deeper, more full,
and with a curiously even carrying quality through the silent night,
she knew she had never heard before; but the darkness, the solitude,
the shock of strange surroundings, if nothing else, made it terrifying
to her. Kate had never been reckoned a timid girl, but she listened
dumb with fear. Bradley did most of the talking. He was recounting,
with occasional profanity, the mishaps of his trip, beginning with the
late train.

"Any passengers?" Kate heard the stranger ask.

"Two women--c'n y' beat it? One of 'em a girl for Doubleday's