The log cabin Democrat., 1909-10-23

I the rain beating her burning face and | her horse leaping fearfully into the i wind
 No man could have kept the trail to the pass that night The horse took | 1t as i. the path flashed in sunshine, and swung into the familiar stride that had carried her so many times over the 20 miles ahead of them. The storm driving into Dicksie's face cooled her Every moment she recol- lected herself better. and before her mind all the aspects of her venture ranged themselves She had set herself to a race, and against her rode the hardest rider in the mountains. She had set herself to what few men on the range would have dared and what no other woman on the range could do. A gust drove into her face. They were already at the head of the pass, and the horse. with level ground underfoot. was falling into the long reach; but the wind was colder,
 Dicksie lowered her head and gave Jim the rein. She realized how wet she was; her feet and her knees were wet. She had no protection but her skirt, though the meanest rider on all her countless acres would not have braved a mile on such night without leather and fur. The great lapels of her riding jacket, reversed, were but toned tight across her shoulders, and the double fold of fur lay warm and dry against her heart and lungs but her hands were cold. and her skirt dragged leaden and cold from her waist, and water soaked in upon her chilled feet.
 She became conscious of how fast she was going. Instinct, made keen by thousands of saddle miles. told Dicksie of her terrific pace. She was riding faster than she would have dared go at monday and without thought or fear of accident. In spite of the sliding and the plunging down the long hill, the storm and the dark ness brought no thought of fear for herself: her only fear was for those ahead In supreme moments d horse, like a man when human efforts be- come Superhuman, puts the lesser dan gers out of reckoning, and the facul- ties, set on single purpose, though strained to the breaking point, never break Low in her saddle. Dicksie tried to reckon how far they had come and how much lay ahead She could feel her skirt stiffening about her knees. and the rain beating at her face was sharper; she knew the sleet as it stung her cheeks, and knew what next was coming-the snow.
 There was no need to urge Jim. He had the rein and Dicksie bent down to speak to him, as she often spoke when they were alone on the road. when Jim, bolting, almost threw her. Recovering instantly, she knew they were no longer alone. She rose alert in her seat. Her straining eyes could see nothing. Was there a sound in the wind? She held her breath to lis ten, but before she could apprehend Jim leaped violently ahead. Dicksie screamed in an agony of terror. She knew then that she had passed anoth- CT rider, and so close she might have touched him.
 Fear froze her to the saddle; it lent wings to her horse The speed be- came wild. Dicksie knit herself to her dumb companion and a prayer choked in her throat. She crouched lest a bullet tea" her from her horse; but through the darkness no bullet came, only the sleet, stinging her face, stiffening her gloves, freezing her hair, chilling her limbs, and weighting her like lead on her struggling horse. She knew not even Sinclair could overtake her now-that no living man could lay