his chin.

The beauty and peace of the morning had no part in his thoughts just
now. Bitter and depressed feelings alone occupied him. Behind him the
noisy little river sped upon its tumultuous way, just below sharp,
high banks, and entirely screened from where he sat. There was a
gossipy, companionable suggestion in the bustling of the noisy waters.
But the feeling was lost upon him. He prayed for inspiration, for
help. It was not for himself. It was for a woman. And the bitterness
of it all was that he, he with all his longing, was denied the power
to help her.

He turned from the hills with a feeling of irritation. Away to his
left the prairie rolled upward, a steady rise to a false sky-line
something less than a mile away. There was sign of neither man, nor
beast, nor habitation of any sort in the prospect. There was just the
river bank on which he sat to break up the uniformity of the plain.
Here was bush, here were trees, but they were few and scattered.

Presently he rose from his seat and moved over to his horse. The
animal lifted its head and looked wistfully into his face. The man
interpreted the appeal in his own fashion. And the look hurt him. It
was as if the poor beast were asking to be allowed to go on feeding a
little longer. Jim was soft-hearted for all dumb animals, and he
quietly and softly swore at his luck. However, he resaddled the animal
to protect its back from the sun and turned back again to the bush.

But he never reached his seat. At that instant the quiet was suddenly
and harshly broken. The stillness of the plain seemed literally split
with the crack of firearms. Two shots rang out in rapid succession,
and the faintest of echoes from the distant hills suggested an
opposing fire at long range. But the first two shots were near,
startlingly near.

All was still again. The man stood staring out in the direction whence
came those ominous sounds. No, all was not quite still again. His
quick ears detected a faint pounding of hoofs, and a racing thought
flew through his brain. His movements became swift, yet deliberate. He
crossed over to his horse and replaced the bit in its mouth. Then he
faced round at the rising ground and watched the sky-line. It was
thence that the reports had come, and his practiced ears had warned
him that they were pistol shots.

Now he shaded his eyes gazing at one particular spot on the sky-line.
For his horse, too, was gazing thither, with its ears sharply prick