if we're men. I can't draw back now, till
it's settled for good and all, one way or the other."

[Illustration: "THERE'S BEEN TOO MUCH BLOOD SHED OVER THAT WRETCHED GOLD
ALREADY. LET THEM HAVE IT."

_Page 212._]

"Oh, I know how you feel about it," she sighed. "But even if it comes
out all right, you're still tied here. You know they won't let you go."

"Don't you worry about that," he comforted. "I'll cross that bridge fast
enough when I come to it. You go on to Benton, like a good girl. I feel
it in my bones that we're going to have better luck from now on. And if
we do, you'll see us ride down the Benton hill one of these fine
mornings. Anyway, I'll send you word by Piegan before long."

Piegan was already mounted, watching us whimsically from under the
dripping brim of his hat. I shook hands with Lyn, and swung into my
saddle. And when Mac had kissed her, we crowded through a gap in the
circle of wagons, waved a last good-by, and rode away in the steadily
falling rain.

CHAPTER XVI.

IN THE CAMP OF THE ENEMY.

From then until near noon we worked our passage if ever men did. On the
high benches it was not so bad for the springy, porous turf soaked up
the excessive moisture and held its firmness tolerably well. But every
bank of any steepness meant a helter-skelter slide to its foot, with
either a bog-hole or swimming water when we got there, and getting up
the opposite hill was like climbing a greased pole--except that there
was no purse at the top to reward our perseverance. Between the
succeeding tablelands lay gumbo flats where the saturated clay hung to
the feet of our horses like so much glue, or opened under hoof-pressure
and swallowed them to the knees. So that our going was slow and
wearisome.

About mid-day the storm gradually changed from unceasing downpour to
squally outbursts, followed by banks of impenetrable fog that would
shut down on us solidly for a few minutes, then vanish like the good
intentions of yesterday; the wind switched a few points and settled to a
steady gale which lashed the spent clouds into hurrying ships of the
air, scudding full-sail before the droning breeze. Before long little
patches of blue began to peep warily through narrow spaces above. The
wind-blown rain-makers lost their leaden hue and became a soft
pearl-gray, all fleecy white around the edges. Then bars of warm
sunshine poured through the widening rifts and the whole rain-washed
land lay around us like