r master's urging, while
the bay sloshed through the treacherous muck, found foothold, lost it,
made a frantic leap, another, and landed trembling on the ledge. Sandy
leaped from his saddle and caught Molly, sliding from her seat in sheer
exhaustion and the revulsion of terror, clinging closely to him.

"It's all right, Molly darlin'," he said soothingly. "All set an' safe.
Rain's oveh an' stars comin' out. We're top of the pass. We'll git down
inter the canyon a ways an' then we'll light a fire an' warm up a bit,
'fore we go on."

She found her feet and cleared from his hold, gasping for recovery of
herself.

"I'm all right," she said. "I was scared an' yet I knew you'd pull me
out. I'm plumb shamed of myself. Jest like a damned gel to act that
way."

"Shucks! You wasn't half as scared as the bay. Wonder did he strain
himself?" He passed clever hands over the bay's legs, talking to it.

"Yo're all right, ol' surelegs. Right as rain." Goldie, the mare, stood
stock-still with trailing lariat, watching them intelligently in the
dusk that was growing quickly luminous as star after star shone through
the flying wrack. A clean, strong wind blew through the throat of the
pass. Sandy recoiled his lariat, gave Molly a hand to her foot to lift
her to her saddle, mounted himself and they rode slowly down. The trail
was in better shape this side, though half an inch of water still topped
it. The turmoil of running waters far below burdened the night, but the
danger from the storm was over.

Train time was long past. Sandy knew nothing of the change of schedule,
but he was confident of winning clear. He knew a man in the little town
they were aiming for whose livery stable was, in the march of the times,
divided between horses and machines. There he expected to put up the
horses until they could be returned to Three Star, and there he figured
on hiring a car and a driver if, as he anticipated, there were no more
trains that night. He believed that Mormon and Sam had delayed the
sheriff. Probably the latter had given up the chase, but there was no
telling. Jordan's best attribute was his pertinacity. They should lose
no time in getting out of the state.

CHAPTER IX

CAROCA

As Sandy had promised, there was a wide-bottomed canyon where great oaks
grew on the flats beside the unfailing stream. The trees were only vast
shapes in the starlight, the long grass was wet and clinging, the creek
spouted and tore along as