r, and the angry waters surged
higher.

Already she knew the strength of the river. She felt its sweeping force
against the animal's frame: the brave Buster struggling hard to keep his
feet. Ahead of her, a dim ghost in the half-light, Bill still rode on
toward the opposite shore. And now--full halfway across--he was in
the full force of the current.

It was all too plain that his horse was battling for its life. The
stream had risen higher than Bill had dreamed, and the waters beat
halfway at the animal's side. He knew what fate awaited him if he
should lose his foothold. Snorting, he threw all of his magnificent
strength against the current.

It was such a test as the animal had never been obliged to endure
before. He gave all that he had of might and courage. He crept forward
inch by inch, feeling his way, bracing against the current, nose close
to the water. In animals, just the same as in men, there are those that
flinch and those that stand straight, the courageous and the cowardly,
the steadfast and the false,--and Mulvaney was of the true breed.
Besides, perhaps some of his rider's strength went into his thews and
sustained him. Slowly the water dropped lower. He was almost to
safety.

At that instant Bill glanced around, intending to warn his party not to
attempt the crossing. He saw the dim shape of Virginia close behind
him, riding into the full strength of the current.

All color swept in an instant from his face, leaving it gray and ashen
as the twilight itself. Icy horror, groping and ghastly, flooded his
veins as he saw that he was powerless to aid her. Yet his mind worked
clear and sure, fast as lightning itself. Even yet it was safer for her
to turn back than attempt to make the crossing. He knew that Buster's
strength was not that of Mulvaney, and he couldn't live in the deepest,
swiftest part of the river that lay before her.

"Turn back," he said. "Turn your horse, Virginia--easy as you can."

At the same instant he turned his own horse back into the full fury of
the torrent. It had been his plan to camp alone on the other side of
the river, returning to the party in the better light of the morning;
but there was not an instant's hesitation in turning to battle it again.
His brave horse, obedient yet to his will, ventured once more into that
torrent of peril. Virginia, cool and alert, pressed the bridle rein
against her horse's neck to turn him.

On the bank Lounsbury and