re were no more than five or six, the number which Mary had counted,
he was quite sure of the situation. But there might be a dozen or fifty
of them. It was possible Graham and Rossland were advancing upon the
range with their entire force. He had at no time tried to analyze just
what this force might be, except to assure himself that with the
overwhelming influence behind him, both political and financial, and
fired by a passion for Mary Standish that had revealed itself as little
short of madness, Graham would hesitate at no convention of law or
humanity to achieve his end. Probably he was playing the game so that he
would be shielded by the technicalities of the law, if it came to a
tragic end. His gunmen would undoubtedly be impelled to a certain extent
by an idea of authority. For Graham was an injured husband "rescuing"
his wife, while he--Alan Holt--was the woman's abductor and paramour,
and a fit subject to be shot upon sight!

His free hand gripped the butt of his pistol as he led the way straight
ahead. The sudden gloom helped to hide in his face the horror he felt of
what that "rescue" would mean to Mary Standish; and then a cold and
deadly definiteness possessed him, and every nerve in his body gathered
itself in readiness for whatever might happen.

If Graham's men had seen them, and were getting between them and
retreat, the neck of the trap lay ahead--and in this direction Alan
walked so swiftly that the girl was almost running at his side. He could
not hear her footsteps, so lightly they fell! her fingers were twined
about his own, and he could feel the silken caress of her loose hair.
For half a mile he kept on, watching for a moving shadow, listening for
a sound. Then he stopped. He drew Mary into his arms and held her
there, so that her head lay against his breast. She was panting, and he
could feel and hear her thumping heart. He found her parted lips and
kissed them.

"You are not afraid?" he asked again.

Her head made a fierce little negative movement against his breast.
"No!"

He laughed softly at the beautiful courage with which she lied. "Even if
they saw us, and are Graham's men, we have given them the slip," he
comforted her. "Now we will circle eastward back to the range. I am
sorry I hurried you so. We will go more slowly."

"We must travel faster," she insisted. "I want to run."

Her fingers sought his hand and clung to it again as they set out. At
intervals they stopped, staring a