ice his vengeance
just to see the red stallion beat the gray. If Creech kept the King in
ransom for Lucy he would have to stay deeply hidden in the wild breaks
of the canyon country or leave the uplands. For Bostil would never let
that deed go unreckoned with. Like Bostil, old Creech was half horse
and half human. The human side had warmed to remorse. He had regretted
Lucy's plight; he wanted her to be safe at home again and to find
happiness; he remembered what she had been to him when she was a little
girl. Creech's other side was more complex.

Before the evening meal ended Lucy divined that Creech was dark and
troubled because he had resigned himself to a sacrifice harder than it
had seemed in the first flush of noble feeling. But she doubted him no
more. She was safe. The King would be returned. She would compel her
father to pay Creech horse for horse. And perhaps the lesson to Bostil
would be worth all the pain of effort and distress of mind that it had
cost her.

That night as she lay awake listening to the roar of the wind in the
pines a strange premonition--like a mysterious voice---came to her with
the assurance that Slone was on her trail.

On the following day Creech appeared to have cast off the brooding
mood. Still, he was not talkative. He applied himself to constant
watching from the rim.

Lucy began to feel rested. That long trip with Creech had made her thin
and hard and strong. She spent the hours under the shade of a cedar on
the rim that protected her from sun and wind. The wind, particularly,
was hard to stand. It blew a gale out of the west, a dry, odorous,
steady rush that roared through the pine-tops and flattened the long,
white grass. This day Creech had to build up a barrier of rock round
his camp-fire, to keep it from blowing away. And there was a constant
danger of firing the grass.

Once Lucy asked Creech what would happen in that case.

"Wal, I reckon the grass would burn back even ag'in thet wind," replied
Creech. "I'd hate to see fire in the woods now before the rains come.
It's been the longest, dryest spell I ever lived through. But fer thet
my hosses-- This hyar's a west wind, an' it's blowin' harder every day.
It'll fetch the rains."

Next day about noon, when both wind and heat were high, Lucy was
awakened from a doze. Creech was standing near her. When he turned his
long gaze away from the canyon he was smiling. It was a smile at once
triumphant and sad.

"Joel's comin