't flush; but the
faintest gloss came over the saffron skin--of what? It was the same
nonchalant, wordless insolence that had played in the eyes of the man
who had come out from the Senator's ranch.

"Yes, Sir, I'll deliver your message a' right," flickered the
headlights reassuringly.

The old man stood stolidly and scorched the lady's eyes.

"How long since y'r sheriff thing set out? Did he break loose by the
back door?"

"There ain't no back door," snapped the headlights; and the front door
slammed in their faces. Wayland burst in a peal of laughter.

"'Tis no laughing matter! 'Tis bad enough t' depend on that broken
reed of a dastard coward sheriff hidin' under the bed! A've a mind to
go back an' have him oot; but that--pot ash pate--" what else the old
man called her was more truthful than elegant for an expurgated age.
They replaced the post of the barbed wire gate in its loop and mounted
their horses.

"Well, Sir?" asked Wayland. "I don't wish to offend your British sense
of law; but which way now?"

The old man left the reins hanging on the broncho's neck. The horses
began cropping the grass. The Ranger was fumbling at his stirrup.

"A'm sore puzzled, Wayland! 'Tis not in the blood of a British born to
go _outside_ law. Y'r no thinkin' that; are y', Wayland?"

"I am saying nothing! The law protects them in their lawlessness. It
doesn't protect us in our lawfulness. The American citizen is the
law-maker. There is only one thing for an American citizen to do--get
to work and enforce his laws--"

"Then--God's name, Wayland, go ahead and do it! Take the lead! A'll
follow! This trail go behind the mountain?"

"Yes, it brings us round behind! They have the start of us by three
hours; but they'll camp to-night somewhere along the Lake Behind the
Peak. Beyond that, there are some mighty bad slides. These rains have
loosened snows. They'll hardly cross the slides beyond the lake but by
daylight. If we can reach the lake to-day, we'll have a chance at 'em."

"Wayland, A'm on the last lap of _my_ trail! It doesn't matter what
happens to me; but have you thought what might happen when we catch up
on them? Those fellows are out to kill. We are out to arrest. Have
you thought what that might mean at close quarters?"

"It's close quarters I'm seeking," said Wayland, "though it's hardly
fair to drag you into the fight. All I want is a man as a witness
who's got red blood that won't tur