the
rope till his fingers found the broken strands that told of the weakness
that caused Chuck to leave it behind that morning. Bending over it,
while his horse ran, he worked frantically to weave a rawhide saddle
string into the fiber and so strengthen the dangerous spot.

* * * * *

Thinking only to reach the ranch as quickly as possible Carolyn June
guided Old Blue down the trail and through the thin patches of willows
and cottonwood trees that grew along the river. The stream looked
innocent enough and the crossing perfectly safe. Swift but apparently
shallow water flowed close to the northern bank. Beyond that was a
clean, pebble strewn bar and then a smaller, narrower prong of the
river. On the south side stretched a white, unbroken expanse of sand a
hundred feet or more wide and ending against the low slope of the meadow
land.

At the brink of the stream Old Blue stopped short and refused to go on.

"What's the matter," Carolyn June laughed lightly, "--afraid of getting
your 'little tootsies' wet?"

The horse reared backward when she tried to urge him ahead and wheeled
half around in an effort to get away from the water.

"Look here, Old Fellow," she spoke sharply, tightening the reins as she
touched his flank with her spur, "we haven't time for foolishness!
Generally, in fact always," accenting the last word, "horses--and
men--go in the direction I want them to go! Why, you're as
stubborn--as--as the Ramblin' Kid!" she finished with another laugh as
Old Blue, with a snort of fear, yet not daring to resist further the
firm hand and firmer will of his rider, stepped into the water.

"Gee, when you do start you go in a hurry, don't you?" Carolyn June said
as the broncho went rapidly forward as if eager to negotiate the
crossing, seeming to know that safety lay in the quickness and lightness
of his tread. As he lunged ahead the girl had the sensation that the
saddle was sinking from under her. Reaching the firmer footing of the
gravel bar in the center of the stream Old Blue tried again to turn
about.

"Go on!" Carolyn June cried impatiently yet with a feeling somehow of
impending danger she could not wholly define, "--you've got to do it, so
you had as well quit your nonsense and go ahead!" at the same time
raking the horse's sides sharply again with the spurs.

Crossing the shallow branch of the river the broncho reached the smooth,
firm appearing beach of sand.

With h