as
far as the hills."

She looked at him bravely restrained but with all her love in her eyes:
"I don't want to leave you, Jim."

"It's poor business for you to be in," he returned firmly. "There's no
way to make it pleasant."

"Don't drive me away!"

He hesitated again: "You might do this: Ride back fast about eighty
rods. Leave the road there, bear to the west and circle around the
little knoll you'll see. There's a clump of willows below the west
side of that knoll."

"Do you know every clump of willows in this country, Jim?"

He answered unmoved: "I know that one for I've crawled up there more
than once to take observations under that bridge myself. Get around
behind those willows and you can see the creek bottom all the way to
the bridge. I'm going up the creek about five hundred yards. I'll
work down. Whoever's under the bridge can't get away except down the
creek. If you see a man trying that, just fire two shots--in the air,
close together--I'll understand. If you get into any kind of
trouble--which you're kind of trying to do--fire two shots a few
seconds apart. I won't be far off."

With a plea to him to be careful--behind which all her agony of
apprehension was repressed and mastered--Kate wheeled her horse and
galloped back.

Laramie, skirting a depression, rode into a break leading to the creek
bed. The creek was practically dry; just a thread of water here and
there among the rocks marked the course of flood time. Dismounting,
Laramie shook himself out of the saddle and laying his rifle across his
arm, walked carefully down-stream along the bed of the creek.

He knew if he were seen first, the fight would be over before he got
into it; of chances to kill from cover, the criminal he felt sure he
was hunting, would need but one. No man from the Falling Wall country
was Stone's superior in the craft of hiding; but none was Laramie's
equal in the art of surprise; and Laramie meant, for once, to make an
antagonist formidable from cover, show in the open.

With this alone in purpose, he stalked with the patience of an Indian
from point to point and cover to cover down toward the bridge;
crouching, halting and peering; slipping from the shoulder of a rock to
the shelter of a boulder; flattening on his stomach to worm his way
under a projecting ledge and sliding noiselessly on his back down the
face of a water-worn glacis--but drawing closer all the time to the
bridge.

He knew every i