ace. Naturally the oldest man spoke first, since this was a matter of
life and death.

"Any hoss in town can get you there in that time, if you know the
short way across the mountain."

"How do you take it? That's the way for me."

But the old fellow shook his head and smiled in pity. "Not if you
ain't rode it before. I used to go that way when I was a kid, but
nowadays nobody rides that way except Doone. That trail is as tricky
as the ways of a coyote; you'd sure get lost without a guide."

The stranger turned and followed the gesture of the speaker. The
mountain rose from the very verge of the town, a ragged mass of sand
and rock, with miserable sagebrush clinging here and there, as dull
and uninteresting as the dust itself. Then he lowered the hand from
beneath which he had peered and faced about with a sigh. "I guess it
ain't much good trying that way. But I got to get to Stillwater inside
of three hours."

"They's one hoss in town can get you there," said the old man. "But
you can't get that hoss today."

The stranger groaned. "Then I'll make another hoss stretch out and
do."

"Can't be done. Doone's hoss is a marvel. Nothing else about here can
touch him, and he's the only one that can make the trip around the
mountain, inside of three hours. You'd kill another hoss trying to do
it, what with your weight."

The stranger groaned again and struck his knuckles against his
forehead. "But why can't I get the hoss? Is Doone out of town with
it?"

"The hoss ain't out of town, but Doone is."

The traveler clenched his fists. This delay and waste of priceless
time was maddening him. "Gents," he called desperately, "I got to
get to Martindale today. It's more than life or death to me. Where's
Doone's hoss?"

"Right across the road," said the old man who had spoken first. "Over
yonder in the corral--the bay."

The traveler turned and saw, beyond the road, a beautiful mare, not
very tall, but a mare whose every inch of her fifteen three proclaimed
strength and speed. At that moment she raised her head and looked
across to him, and the heart of the rider jumped into his throat. The
very sight of her was an omen of victory, and he made a long stride in
her direction, but two men came before him. The old fellow jumped from
the chair and tapped his arm.

"You ain't going to take the bay without getting leave from Doone?"

"Gents, I got to," said the stranger. "Listen! My name's Gregg, Bill
Gregg. Up in my coun