precarious thoroughfare
away in a gap like a bite taken out of a soft apple.

But along those uncertain trails, obeying something surer than human
intelligence, the beast piloted his rider with an intuitive steadiness,
feeling for his foothold, and the girl, being almost as wise as he,
forebore from any interference of command save by the encouragement of a
kindly voice.

Once in a swollen ford where the current had come boiling up mount and
rider were lifted and swept downstream, and for a matter of long moments
it was a toss-up whether water-power or mule-power would prevail.
Through the caldron roar of storm-fed waters, then, the girl could hear
the heavy, straining breath in the beast's lungs, and the strong lashing
of its swimming legs. She caught her lip till it bled between her teeth
and clung tight and steady, knowing her danger but seeking to add no
ounce of difficulty to the battle for strength and equilibrium of the
animal under her. And they had won through and were coming back.

At her side now rode Uncle Jason, the man of diverse parts who was
justice of the peace, adviser in dissension, and self-taught
practitioner of medicine.

He had been roused out of his sleep and had required no urging. He had
listened, saddled, and come, and now, when behind them lay the harder
part of the journey, they heard other hoofs on the road and made out a
shadowy horseman who wheeled his mount to ride beside them.

Then for the first time in a long while the girl opened her
tight-pressed lips to shape the gasping question which she was almost
terrified to ask.

"How is he, Bas? Air he still alive?"

When at last they stood by the bedside, the volunteer doctor pressed his
head to the hardly stirring chest and took the inert wrist between his
fingers. Then he straightened up and shook a dubious head.

"Thar hain't but jist only a flicker of pulse-beat left," he declared.
"Mebby he mout live through hit--but ef he does hit'll p'int-blank
astonish me."

CHAPTER X

Through the rest of that night Old Jase lay on a pallet spread before
the fire, rising at intervals out of a deathlike slumber to slip his
single suspender strap over his bent shoulder, turn up the lantern, and
inspect his patient's condition.

On none of these occasions did he find the girl, who spent that night in
a straight-backed chair at the bedside, asleep. Always she was sitting
there with eyes wide and brimming with suffering and fear, a