eg paining at every step. She was chilled to the marrow and
very tired. But she clamped her small strong teeth and kept going.

The temptation to give up and lie down assailed her. She fought against
it, shuffling forward, stumbling as her dragging feet caught in the snow.
She must be near Bear Cat now. Surely it could not be far away. If it was
not very close, she knew she was beaten.

After what seemed an eternity of travel a light gleamed through the snow.
She saw another--a third.

She zigzagged down the road like a drunkard.

CHAPTER XII

MOLLIE TAKES CHARGE

Bear Cat was a cow-town, still in its frankest, most exuberant youth. Big
cattle outfits had settled on the river and ran stock almost to the Utah
line. Every night the saloons and gambling-houses were filled with
punchers from the Diamond K, the Cross Bar J, the Half Circle Dot, or any
one of a dozen other brands up or down the Rio Blanco. They came from
Williams's Fork, Squaw, Salt, Beaver, or Piney Creeks. And usually they
came the last mile or two on the dead run, eager to slake a thirst as
urgent as their high spirits.

They were young fellows most of them, just out of their boyhood, keen to
spend their money and have a good time when off duty. Always they made
straight for Dolan's or the Bear Cat House. First they downed a drink or
two, then they washed off the dust of travel. This done, each followed
his own inclination. He gambled, drank, or frolicked around, according to
the desire of the moment.

Dud Hollister and Tom Reeves, with Blister Haines rolling between them,
impartially sampled the goods at Dolan's and at Mollie Gillespie's. They
had tried their hand at faro, with unfortunate results, and they had sat
in for a short session at a poker game where Dud had put too much faith
in a queen full.

"I sure let my foot slip that time," Dud admitted. "I'd been playin'
plumb outa luck. Couldn't fill a hand, an' when I did, couldn't get it to
stand up. That last queen looked like money from home. I reckon I
overplayed it," he ruminated aloud, while he waited for Mike Moran to
give him another of the same.

Tom hooked his heel on the rail in front of the bar. "I ain't made up my
mind yet that game was on the level. That tinhorn who claimed he was from
Cheyenne ce'tainly had a mighty funny run o' luck. D' you notice how his
hands jes' topped ours? Kinda queer, I got to thinkin'. He didn't hold
any more'n he had to for to rake the chips