e there is a short cut by way of Dolores Sinks. You ought to be
across the divide before morning. I'll show you the trail."

What story she told to get the horse from Cameron her companions did
not know, but from where they waited in the pines they saw the
flickering light of a lantern cross to the stable. Presently Beulah
rode up to them on the hillside above the ranch.

By devious paths she led them through chaparral and woodland.
Sometimes they followed her over hills and again into gulches. The
girl "spelled" Dingwell at riding the second horse, but whether in the
saddle or on foot her movements showed such swift certainty that Dave
was satisfied she knew where she was going.

Twice she stopped to rest the wounded man, who was now clinging with
both hands to the saddle-horn. But the hard gleam of her dark eyes
served notice that she was moved by expediency and not sympathy.

It was midnight when at last she stopped near the entrance to the pass.

"The road lies straight before you over the divide. You can't miss it.
Once on the other side keep going till you get into the foothills. All
trails will take you down," she told Dingwell.

"We're a heap obliged to you, Miss Rutherford," answered Dingwell. "I
reckon neither one of us is liable to forget what you've done for us."

She flamed. "I've nothing against you, Mr. Dingwell, but you might as
well know that what I've done was for my people. I don't want them to
get into trouble. If it hadn't been for that--"

"You'd 'a' done it just the same," the cattleman finished for her with
a smile. "You can't make me mad to-night after going the limit for us
the way you have."

Beaudry, sagging over the horn of the saddle, added his word timidly,
but the Rutherford girl would have none of his thanks.

"You don't owe me anything, I tell you. How many times have I got to
say that it is nothing to me what becomes of you?" she replied,
flushing angrily. "All I ask is that you don't cross my path again.
Next time I'll let Jess Tighe have his way."

"I didn't go into the park to spy on your people, Miss Rutherford. I
went to--"

"I care nothing about why you came." The girl turned to Dingwell, her
chin in the air. "Better let him rest every mile or two. I don't want
him breaking down in our country after all the trouble I've taken."

"You may leave him to me. I'll look out for him," Dave promised.

"Just so that you don't let him get caught again," sh