s she rode along; she did not analyze
the feeling that drove her forth to the rescue. She only knew that she
and she alone was responsible for any harm that might have come to one
whose only fault was that he had taken her at her word; and that she
would cheerfully break her own neck and Sunbeam's,--even Sunbeam's! for
the sake of rescuing him.

The storm had ceased entirely now, and just as she reached the ranch
gate, which had swung half to on its hinges and was stuck there in the
snow, the moon came out and revealed the wide white expanse, unbroken by
any sign of the road. She felt sure that the search-parties would have
followed the road as closely as possible and that they would have tried
not to stray off into the field. But that was just where Stephen Burns,
mindful of the perils she had described to him, would naturally have
turned. She blew the whistle in the end of her riding-crop, once, twice,
three times. The sound died away in the wide echoless spaces. Then
cautiously, slowly, she made Sunbeam feel his way across the snow. The
moon was still riding among heavy clouds, but now and then it shone
forth and flooded with light the broad white field, casting a sharp-cut,
distorted shadow of horse and rider upon the snow.

[Illustration: "THE RANCH GATE, WHICH HAD SWUNG HALF TO ON ITS
HINGES."]

Once or twice she stopped, and blew the whistle and hallooed, and each
time the weird silence closed in again like an impenetrable veil.
Sometimes she became impatient of her slow progress, but she knew too
well the dangers of a misstep to risk the chance of success by any lack
of caution. Even in her anxiety and distress of mind, she marked the
intelligence with which Sunbeam picked his way, testing the firmness of
each spot on which he trod, as if he had known the danger.

Presently they began the ascent of a long narrow ridge beyond which she
knew there were no holes. As they paused for a moment on the crest,
looking down into the moonlit hollow, she raised the riding-crop to her
lips, and blew a long, shrill whistle; and promptly as an echo a voice
returned the signal. Following the direction of the sound, her eyes
discerned a dark shadow in the hollow forty rods away. She put Sunbeam
into a canter, and as she approached the shadow, the outline defined
itself, and she saw that it was a ruinous shed or hut.

"Hulloo!" came the voice again, and this time it was unmistakeably
Stephen's.

A hundred yards from the sh