cross the
mountain to come up with her. Just by a fraction of a minute Doone
would be too late, for, by the time he came down onto the trail,
the bay would be well ahead, and certainly no horse lived in those
mountains capable of overtaking her when she felt like running. Gregg
touched her again with the spurs, but this time she reared straight up
and, whirling to the side, faced steadily toward her onrushing master.

Chapter Two

_Friendly Enemies_

Again and again Gregg spurred the bay cruelly.

She winced from the pain and snorted, but, apparently having not the
slightest knowledge of bucking, she could only shake her head and send
a ringing whinny of appeal up the slope of the mountain, toward the
approaching rider.

In spite of the approaching danger, in spite of this delay which was
ruining his chances of getting to Stillwater before the train, Bill
Gregg watched in marvel and delight the horsemanship of the stranger.
Ronicky Doone, if this were he, was certainly the prince of all wild
riders.

Even as the mare stopped in answer to the signal of her owner, Ronicky
Doone sent his mount over the edge of a veritable cliff, flung him
back on his haunches and slid down the gravelly slope, careening
from side to side. With a rush of pebbles about him and a dust cloud
whirling after, Ronicky Doone broke out into the road ahead of the
mare, and she whinnied softly again to greet him.

Bill Gregg found himself looking not into the savage face of such
a gunfighter as he had been led to expect, but a handsome fellow,
several years younger than he, a high-headed, straight-eyed, buoyant
type. In his seat in the saddle, in the poise of his head and the play
of his hand on the reins Bill Gregg recognized a boundless nervous
force. There was nothing ponderous about Ronicky Doone. Indeed he was
not more than middle size, but, as he reined his horse in the middle
of the road and looked with flashing eyes at Bill Gregg, he appeared
very large indeed.

Gregg was used to fighting or paying his way, or doing both at the
same time, as occasion offered. He decided that this was certainly an
occasion for much money and few words.

"You're Doone, I guess," he said, "and you know that I've played a
pretty bad trick on you, taking your hoss this way. But I wanted to
pay for it, Doone, and I'll pay now. I've got to get to Stillwater
before that train. Look at her! I haven't hurt her any. Her wind isn't
touched. She's pret