know, and I want you women to ride
them."

"By--by ourselves?" Mrs. Conrad's usually cheerful voice sounded a little
frightened. "I couldn't find that trail in the dark; I'm not Li Yow, you
know."

"The horses will take you."

"Oh, please let's keep together!" pleaded Polly. "Why can't we all go in
the wagon the way you planned?"

"Well, for one reason, the harness was in the barn and was burned," said
Scott, with some irritation.

"Herrick has a lot of old junk of that sort in his storeroom," volunteered
Hard. "I believe you could patch up one. Those sounds have died away--the
fight's over," he added. "Let's go back and have a look, and see what
Herrick says."

There was a pause and the two men consulted anxiously together. It was
very still--not a sound from the direction of the hills. It really did
look as though the attack had been followed by flight. Scott, against what
he afterward called his better judgment, but what was really only a
disinclination to change his mind, gave in, and the two men walked on
ahead.

"If we're going in the wagon, Hard, we've got to go by the road, and I
don't stir a step on that road till I know whether this deviltry is over
for the night or not. We'll camp down here for a few hours, and start by
daybreak."

"Why not? The horses need the rest and so do we. I say camp, by all
means."

Everything seemed harmless at the ranch house. Herrick, who had performed
his unpleasant task, was studying the extent of the damage, which seemed
to be confined to broken windows. When consulted, he approved of the idea
of an early morning start in the wagon and believed that out of the odds
and ends of harness in the storeroom something could be patched up and
made to do.

"All right then." Scott's voice was emphatic. "I'll fix the wagon first
thing in the morning. And now, let's all turn in and catch a few winks
before daybreak."

"I don't believe I'll sleep a minute," said Polly, as the two women were
left alone in the room which Clara Conrad had been occupying. "I'll throw
my cloak around me and lie down on the couch. I feel awfully strung up,
don't you?"

"Yes," said the older woman. "But I'm going to try to sleep, and so must
you."

As a matter of fact, Clara did not expect to sleep. The meeting with Henry
Hard had brought up old memories--memories both happy and sad. He had
changed little, the tall, thin, sandy-haired man. It was good, oh so good,
to have something back again f