steep trail at a pace that sent
the gravel flying and forced the artist, unaccustomed to such riding, to
cling desperately to the saddle. Up the canyon road, the Ranger sent the
chestnut at a run, nor did he draw rein as they crossed the rough
boulder-strewn wash. Plunging through the tumbling water of the creek,
the horses scrambled up the farther bank, and dashed along the old,
weed-grown road, into the little clearing They were met by Czar with a
bark of welcome. A moment later, they were greeted by Conrad Lagrange and
Myra Willard.

"But why don't you stay down at the ranch, Myra?" asked the Ranger, when
he had told them that his day's work was without results.

"Listen, Mr. Oakley," returned the woman with the disfigured face. "I know
Sibyl too well not to understand the possibilities of her temperament.
Natures, fine and sensitive as hers, though brave and cool and strong
under ordinary circumstances, under peculiar mental stress such as I
believe caused her to leave us, are easily thrown out of balance. We know
nothing. The child may be wandering, alone--dazed and helpless under the
shock of a cruel and malicious attempt to wreck her happiness. Only some
terrible stress of emotion could have caused her to leave me as she did.
If she _is_ alone, out here in the hills, there is a chance that--even in
her distracted state of mind--she will find her way to her old home." The
woman paused, and then, in the silence, added hesitatingly, "I--I may say
that I know from experience the possibilities of which I speak."

The three men bowed their heads. Brian Oakley said softly, "Myra, you've
got more heart and more sense than all of us put together." To Conrad
Lagrange, he added, "You will stay here with Miss Willard?"

"Yes," answered the novelist, "I would be little good in the hills, at
such work as you are doing, Brian. I will do what I can, here."

When the Ranger and the artist were riding down the canyon to the ranch,
the officer said, "There's a big chance that Myra is right, Aaron. After
all, she knows Sibyl better than any of us, and I can see that she's got a
fairly clear idea of what sent the child off like this. As it stands now,
the girl may be just wandering around. If she _is_, the boys will pick her
up before many hours. She may have met with some accident. If _that's_ it,
we'll know before long. She may have been--I tell you, Aaron, it's that
automobile acting the way it did that I can't get around."