The Winslow mail., 1923-08-17

holler rhet heads near the trail a few
miles down." Nels was saying, as he
tightened his saddle-girtfl. ~Thet hol-
thet, it'll be every man fer hisself. 1
reckon there won't be anythin' wuss
than rough ride"
Nels smiled reassuringly at Made
line, but he did not speak to her.
Monty took her eanteen and filled it
at the spring and hung it over the
pommel Of her saddle. He put couple
of biscuits in the saddle-bag.
Don't fergit to take drink an
bite as you're ridin' along" he said.
AN don't worry, Miss Majesty. Stew
art II be with you, an me an Nels
hangin' On the back trail"
His somber and sullen face did not
change in its strange intensity, but
the look in his eyes Madeline felt she
would never forget. Left alone with
these three men, now stripped of all
pretense, she realized how fortune had
favored her and what peril still hung
in the balance. Stewart swung astride
his big black, spurred him, and whis-
tied. At the whistle Majesty jumped,
and with swift canter followed Stew
art. Madeline looked back to see Nels
already up and Monty handing him
rifle. Then the pines hid her view.
Once in the trail, Stewards horse
broke into a gallop. Majesty changed
his gait and kept at the blacks heels.
Stewart called back a warning. The
low, wide-spreading branches Of trees
might brush Madeline out Of the sad.
die. Fast riding through the forest
along a crooked, obstructed trail called
forth all her alertness.
Before long Stewart wheeled at right
angles off the trail and entered a hOl-
low between two low bluffs. Madeline
saw tracks in the open patches of
ground. Here Stewards horse took to
a brisk walk.
At last Madeline was brought to a
dead halt by Stewart and his horse
blocking the trail. Looking up, she
saw they were at the head Of can
yon that yawned beneath and widened
it's gray-walled, green-patched slopes
down to black forest of fir. Retract-
ing her gaze, Madeline saw pack
horses cross an open space a mile be-
low, and she thought she saw the stag
hounds. Stewards dark eyes searched
the slopes high up along the craggy
escarpments. Then he put the black
to the descent.
He led off to the right, zigzagging
an intricate course through the rough
est ground Madeline had ever ridden
over. He crashed through cedars,
threaded tortuous way among
bOulders, made his horse slide down
slanting banks of soft earth, picked a
slow and cautious progress across
weathered slopes Of loose rock. Made
line followed, finding in this ride q
tax on strength and judgment. 1t was
dust and heat, parching throat, that
caused her to think of time; and she
was amazed to see the sun slOping to
the west. Stewart never stopped; he
never looked back; he never spoke.
"After a mile or so of easy travel
the ground again began to fall de-
cidedly, sloping in numerous ridges,
with draws between. Soon night
shadowed the deeper gullies. Madeline
was refreshed by the cooling Of the air.
Stewart Travelled slowly now. The
barks Of coyotes seemed to startle him.
Often he stopped to listen. And during
one of those intervals the silence was
broken by sharp rifle shots. Madeline
could not tell whether they were near
or far, to right or left, behind or be-
fore. Evidently Stewart was both
alarmed and baffled. He dismounted.
He went cautiously forward to listen.
Madeline fancied she heard cry, low
and far away. 1t was only that Of
coyote, she convinced herself, yet 1t
was so wailing, so human, that she
shuddered. Stewart came back. He
slipped the bride Of both horses, and
he led them. Every few PAGES he