il Frances drew rein
within a few feet of her and gave her good-morning. When the poor
harried creature saw that the visitor was a woman, her fright gave
place to wonder.

Frances introduced herself without parley, and made inquiry for
Macdonald.

"Why, bless your heart, you don't aim to tell me you rode all the way
from the post in the night by yourself?" the simple, friendly creature
said. "Well, Mr. Macdonald and most of the men they've left to take
them scoun'rels sent in here by the cattlemen to murder all of us over
to the jail at Meander."

"How long have they been gone?"

"Why, not so very long. I reckon you must 'a' missed meetin' 'em by a
hair."

"I've got to catch up with them, right away! Is there anybody here
that can guide me?"

"My son can, and he'll be glad. He's just went to sleep back there in
the tent after guardin' them fellers all night. I'll roust him out."

The pioneer woman came back almost at once, and pressed a cup of her
coffee upon Frances. Frances took the tin vessel eagerly, for she was
chilled from her long ride. Then she dismounted to rest her horse
while her guide was getting ready, and warm her numb feet at the fire.
She told the woman how the scent of her coffee had led her out of her
groping like a beacon light on the hill.

"It's about three miles from here down to the valley," the woman said.
"Coffee will carry on the mornin' air that way."

"Do you think your son--?"

"He's a-comin'," the woman replied.

The boy came around the rock, leading a horse. He was wide awake and
alert, bare-footed, bareheaded, and without a coat. He leaped nimbly
onto his bare-backed beast, and Frances got into her saddle as fast as
her numb limbs would lift her.

As she road away after the recklessly riding youth, she felt the hope
that she had warmed in her bosom all night paling to a shadow. It
seemed that, circumstances were ranging after a chart marked out for
them, and that her own earnest effort to interfere could not turn
aside the tragedy set for the gray valley below her.

Morning was broadening now; she could see her guide distinctly even
when he rode many rods ahead. Dawn was the hour for treacherous men
and deeds of stealth; Chadron would be on the way again before now,
with the strength of the United States behind him to uphold his
outlawed hand.

When they came down into the valley there was a low-spreading mist
over the gray sage, which lent a warmth to the raw morning