ed in the plot to murder Doubler.

When she reached the last rise--on the crest of which she had sat on her
pony on the morning following her marriage to Dakota in the cabin and from
which she had seen the parson riding away--she was trembling with
eagerness and dread for fear that something might happen before she could
arrive. It was three miles down the slope, and when she reached the level
there was Dakota's cabin before her.

She drew her pony to a walk, for she saw men grouped in front of the cabin
door, saw Dakota there himself, standing in the open doorway, framed in
the light from within. There were no evidences of the conflict which she
had dreaded. She had arrived in time.

Convinced of this, she felt for the first time her physical weariness, and
she leaned forward on her pony, holding to its mane for support,
approaching the cabin slowly.

Her father was there, she observed, as she drew nearer; and three
strangers--and Allen! And near Allen, sitting on his horse dejectedly, was
Duncan!

One of Duncan's arms swung oddly at his side, and Sheila thought instantly
of his curse when he had been riding near her at the river crossing.
Evidently Allen's bullet had struck him.

Sheila's presence at Dakota's cabin was now unnecessary, for it was
evident that an understanding had been reached with Allen, and Sheila
experienced a sudden aversion to appearing among the men. Turning her
pony, she was about to ride away, intending to return to Doubler's cabin,
when Allen turned and saw her. He spurred quickly to her side, seizing the
pony by the bridle rein and leading it toward the cabin door.

"It's all right, ma'am," he said, "I got him. Holy smoke!" he exclaimed as
she came within the radius of the light. "You certainly rode some, didn't
you, ma'am?"

She did not answer. She saw her father look at her, noted his start,
smiled scornfully when she observed a paleness overspreading his face. She
looked from him to Duncan, and the latter flushed and turned his head.
Then Allen's voice reached her, as he spoke to Dakota.

"This young woman has rode twenty miles to-night--to save your hide--you
durned cuss. If you was anyways hospitable, you'd----"

Allen's voice seemed to grow distant to Sheila, the figures of the men in
the group blurred, the light danced, she reeled in the saddle, tried to
check herself, failed, and toppled limply forward over her pony's neck.
She heard an exclamation, saw Dakota spring sudden