is words. She roused herself from her fascinated attention. She was
about to urge her horse forward. But a thin, powerful hand reached out
and gripped her by the arm. It was "Lord" Bill. His hoarse whisper sung
in her ears.

"Your own words--Leave well alone."

And she allowed her horse to stand.

Now she leaned forward in her saddle and rested her elbows upon the horn
in front of her. Again she heard Baptiste speak. He seemed to be in sole
command.

"We'll give yer a chance fur yer life--"

Again the fiendish laugh underlaid the words.

"It's a chance of a dog--a yellow dog," he pursued. Jacky shuddered.
"But such a chance is too good fur yer likes. Look--look, those hills.
See the three tall peaks--yes, those three, taller than the rest. One
straight in front; one to the right, an' one away to the left. Guess
this path divides right hyar--in three, an' each path heads for one of
those peaks. Say, jest one trail crosses the keg--one. Savee? The others
end sudden, and then--the keg."

The full horror of the man's meaning now became plain to the girl. She
heaved a great gasp, and turned to Bill. Her lover signed a warning. She
turned again to the scene before her.

"Now, see hyar, you scum," Baptiste went on. "This is yer chance. Choose
yer path and foller it. Guess yer can't see it no more than yer ken see
this one we're on, but you've got the lay of it. Guess you'll travel the
path yer choose to--the end. If yer don't move--an' move mighty
slippy--you'll be dumped headlong into the muck. Ef yer git on to the
right path an' cross the keg safe, yer ken sling off wi' a whole skin.
Guess you'll fin' it a ticklish job--mebbe you'll git through. But I've
a notion yer won't. Now, take yer dog's chance, an' remember, its death
if yer don't, anyway."

The man ceased speaking. Jacky saw Lablache shake his great head. Then
something made him look at the mountains beyond. There were the three
dimly-outlined peaks. They were clear enough to guide him. Jacky,
watching, saw the expression of his face change. It was as though a
flicker of hope had risen within him. Then she saw him turn and eye
Baptiste. He seemed to read in that cruel, dark face a vengeful purpose.
He seemed to scent a trick. Presently he turned again to the hills.

How plainly the watching girl read the varying emotions which beset him.
He was trying to face this chance calmly, but the dark expanse of the
surrounding mire wrung his heart with terror. He