d the opening from the corral into
the pasture and wormed her way between two of them. A hackamore with a
piece of halter rope attached to it hung across the upper bar. Taking it
down she moved off across the pasture in the direction the saddle horses
most often took when liberated from the corral.

If they had not crossed the river she felt that she might find and catch
Brazos, for lumps of sugar and bits of bread had inspired in his equine
soul a wondrous attachment for his temporary mistress.

Down the beaten trail the animals had made to the river the girl
hurried, her eyes penetrating the darkness ahead and to either hand for
the looming bulks that would be the horses she sought, and among which
she might hope to discover the gentle little Brazos.

The nearer she came to the river the lower dropped her spirits, for as
yet no sign of the animals was to be seen. To have attempted to place a
hackamore upon any of the wild creatures in the corral would have been
the height of foolishness--only a well-sped riata in the hands of a
strong man could have captured one of these.

Closer and closer to the fringe of willows along the river she came,
until, at their very edge, there broke upon her already taut nerves the
hideous and uncanny scream of a wildcat. The girl stopped short in
her tracks. She felt the chill of fear creep through her skin, and a
twitching at the roots of her hair evidenced to her the extremity of her
terror. Should she turn back? The horses might be between her and the
river, but judgment told her that they had crossed. Should she brave the
nervous fright of a passage through that dark, forbidding labyrinth of
gloom when she knew that she should not find the horses within reach
beyond?

She turned to retrace her steps. She must find another way!

But was there another way? And "Tomorrow they will shoot him!" She
shuddered, bit her lower lip in an effort to command her courage, and
then, wheeling, plunged into the thicket.

Again the cat screamed--close by--but the girl never hesitated in her
advance, and a few moments later she broke through the willows a dozen
paces from the river bank. Her eyes strained through the night; but no
horses were to be seen.

The trail, cut by the hoofs of many animals, ran deep and straight down
into the swirling water. Upon the opposite side Brazos must be feeding
or resting, just beyond reach.

Barbara dug her nails into her palms in the bitterness of her
dis