all
the sign."

So they forced the reluctant Jimmy to mount the packhorse, and
distributed his load between them, taking only what was absolutely
necessary.

When they were quite ready Stanesby looked at his watch.

"Ten o'clock," he said. "We must be there before daylight if we want to
do any good;" and Turner could not but note that there was a more hopeful
ring in his voice. Evidently he thought that perhaps all would be well
after all.

They rode in silence, each man busy with his own thoughts. They had
to ride judiciously too, for their horses were poor, and they had
done forty miles already that day. Could they ever get back to the
out-station before breakfast? Could they? And would they be in time if
they did? Turner asked himself the question again and again, and he felt
that his companion was doing the same thing. Whenever he touched his
horse with the spur till the poor beast started forward with a fresh
burst of energy, his companion felt he was thinking that the girl's life
was forfeit by his carelessness, was wondering would they ever be in
time.

Dawn would be about six o'clock. Forty miles to go, and eight hours to
do it in. Forty miles straight ahead, with absolutely nothing to break
the monotony except the little patch of prickly bush where they had
spelled that afternoon. They went farther before they spelled to-night,
and they did not stop then till it was very evident to both that the
horses must have a rest, if it was only for half an hour. Turner lay on
the ground and stared up at the starlit sky, and listened to the deep
breathing of the black boy, and the restless pacing up and down of
his companion. Then he fell into a doze from which he was aroused by
Stanesby, and they were on their way again.

"We can't stop now till we get there," he said. "Old man, we must be in
time. We must!"

But the other man said nothing. He could not judge, he could only hope.
And now at the end of the journey, weary and tired, his hopes had gone
down to zero.

The first faint streaks of dawn began to show themselves in the eastern
sky, and Stanesby drew a long breath.

"My God! we Ye still a mile away."

"If they weren't there last night we'll be in time."

"Poor little girl! How thankful she 'll be to see us. It's all right, it
must be all right."

And the light broadened in the east, the rosy light grew deeper and
deeper, then it paled to bright gold, and behind, and all around, the
world looked