nd yet, for a score or so of
miles, a determined, brutally merciless man upon a horse may render an
account of himself.

But while they both speculated they sped on. They came to the spot
where the "old road" turned into the new; Blenham and Temple were to be
seen nowhere though here the country was flat and but sparsely
timbered, and the moon pricked out all objects distinctly.

And so on and on, beginning to wonder at last, asking themselves if
Blenham and Temple had drawn out of the road somewhere, hiding in the
shadows, to let them go by? But finally only when they were climbing
the last winding grade with Red Creek but a couple of miles away, they
saw the two horsemen.

Terry's car swung about a curve in the road her headlights for a brief
instant aiding the moon in garishly illuminating a scene to be
remembered. Blenham had turned in his saddle, startled perhaps by the
sound of the oncoming car or by the gleam of the headlights; his
uplifted quirt fell heavily upon the sides of his running horse; rose
and fell again upon the rump of Temple's mount, and the two men, their
horses leaping under them, were gone over the ridge and down upon the
far side.

In a few moments, from the crest of the ridge, they made out the two
running forms on the road below. Blenham was still frantically beating
his horse and Temple's. Terry's horn blared; her car leaped; and
Blenham, cursing loudly, jerked his horse back on its haunches and well
out of the road. With wheels locked, Terry slid to a standstill.

"Pile in, dad," she said coolly, ignoring Blenham. "Steve Packard and
I will take you into Red Creek. Packard is ready to make you a better
proposition than Blenham's. Turn your horse loose; he'll go home, and
pile in with us."

"He'll do nothing of the kind!" shouted Blenham, his voice husky with
his fury. "Just you try that on Temple, an'-- He'll do nothing of the
kind," he concluded heavily, his mien eloquent of threat.

"We know you think you've got some kind of a strangle-hold on him,
Blenham," cut in Terry crisply. "But even if you have, dad is a white
man and--dad! What is the matter?"

Temple slipped from his saddle and stood shaking visibly, his face dead
white, his eyes staring. Even in the moonlight they could all see the
big drops of sweat on his forehead, glistening as they trickled down.
He put out his hand to support himself by gripping at his saddle,
missed blindly, staggered, and began slowl