in her hands and
Dan paid no more attention to her.

"Hurry up," he said. "They're across the river."

And Vic gave up the struggle, for the tears of Kate made him think
of Betty Neal and he followed Dan towards the corral. Around them the
stallion ran like a hunting dog eager to be off.

Chapter X. One Trail Ends

"You can trust Grey Molly to me, Vic," said Dan, standing at the head of
the gray mare. "I'll keep her as safe as if she was Satan."

Gregg watched her almost sadly. He had always taken a rather childish
pride in her fierceness. She knew him as a dog knows its master and he
had always been the only one who could handle her readily in the saddle.
But one who knew nothing of horses and their ways could see the entente
which had been instantly established between Barry and Grey Molly. When
he spoke her ears pricked. When he raised his hand she stretched her
nose inquisitively.

There was no pitch in her when Barry swung into the saddle and that
was a thing without precedent in Molly's history. She tried none of her
usual catlike side-steps and throwing of the head. Altogether, Vic was
troubled even as he would have been at the sight of Betty Neal in the
arms of another man. It was desertion.

"Dan," he said, "I know what you've done for me and I know what you're
doin' now." He took the slender hand of the other in his big paw.

"If the time comes when I can pay you back, so help me God--"

"Oaths don't do no good," cut in Barry without a trace of emotion. He
added frankly: "It ain't altogether for your sake. Those gents down
there have played tag once with me and now I'd like to play with them.
Molly's fresh today."

He was already looking over his shoulder while he spoke; as if his mind
were even then at work upon the posse.

"S'long."

"S'long, partner. Good luck."

So they parted and Vic, jogging slowly up the steep path, saw Grey Molly
wheeled and sent at a sweeping gallop over the meadow. His heart
leaped jealously and the next moment went out in a flood of gratitude,
admiration, as Barry swung off the shoulder of the mountain, waved his
hat towards Kate, and dipped at once out of sight.

The shelving ground along which Barry rode sometimes was a broad surface
like a spacious, graded road; again it shelved away and opened a view
of all the valley. When he reached the first of these places the rider
looked back and down and saw the posse skirting rapidly on his side of
the river, behind