h her arm.
She was sobbing hysterically.

The outlaw seized her by the shoulders and swung her round. "Cut that out,
girl," he ordered roughly.

Melissy caught at her sobs and tried to check them.

"He got what was coming to him, what he's been playing for a long time. I
warned him, but the fool wouldn't see it."

"How did you know?" she asked, getting out her question a word at a time.

"Knew it all the time. Rosario brought his note to me. I told her to take
it to you and keep her mouth shut."

"You planned his death."

"If you like to put it that way. Now we'll go home and forget this
foolishness. Jeff, bring the horses round to the mouth of the gulch."

Melissy felt suddenly very, very tired and old. Her feet dragged like
those of an Indian squaw following her master. It was as though heavy
irons weighted her ankles.

MacQueen helped her to one of the horses Jackson brought to the lip of the
gulch. Weariness rode on her shoulders all the way back. The soul of her
was crushed beneath the misfortunes that oppressed her.

Long before they reached the ranch houses Rosario came running to meet
them. Plainly she was in great excitement.

"The prisoners have escaped," she cried to MacQueen.

"Escaped. How?" demanded Black.

"Some one must have helped them. I heard a window smash and ran out. The
young ranger and another man were coming out of the last cabin with the
old man. I could do nothing. They ran."

They had been talking in her own language. MacQueen jabbed another
question at her.

"Which way?"

"Toward the Pass."

The outlaw ripped out an oath. "We've got 'em. They can't reach it without
horses as quick as we can with them." He whirled upon Melissy. "March into
the house, girl. Don't you dare make a move. I'm leaving Buck here to
watch you." Sharply he swung to the man Lane. "Buck, if she makes a break
to get away, riddle her full of holes. You hear me."

A minute later, from the place where she lay face down on the bed, Melissy
heard him and his men gallop away.

CHAPTER VIII

AN ESCAPE AND A CAPTURE

Far up in the mountains, in that section where head the Roaring Fork, One
Horse Creek, and the Del Oro, is a vast tract of wild, untraveled country
known vaguely as the Bad Lands. Somewhere among the thousand and one
canyons which cleft the huddled hills lay hidden Dead Man's Cache. Here
Black MacQueen retreated on those rare occasions when the pursuit grew hot
on his tracks. So t