ff to their work. Laura stole out from her tent and started off
in rather a shame-faced manner for a ride. Presently Lenora opened her
eyes. She, too, stretched out her hand for her watch. Suddenly she sat up
in bed with a little exclamation. On the table by her side was a small
black box. She took off the lid with trembling fingers, drew out a scrap
of paper and read:--

"Fools! Tongues of flame will cross Quest's path. He will never
reach the depot alive."

Lenora glanced at Laura's empty bed. Then she staggered to the opening of
the tent.

"Laura!" she cried.

There was no one there. The cowboys had all gone to their work, Laura had
passed out of sight across the ridge in the distance. Lenora staggered to
the cook wagon, where the Chinese cook was sitting cleaning plates.

"Listen!" she cried. "They are in danger, the three men who have gone off
to the depot! If you'll ride after them, I will give you a hundred
dollars. Give them this," she added, holding out the scrap of paper.

The Chinaman shook his head. He glanced at the slip of paper indifferently
and went on with his work.

"No can ride, missee," he said.

Lenora looked around helplessly. The camp was empty. She staggered across
towards her own horse.

"Come and help me," she ordered.

The Chinaman came unwillingly. They found her saddle but he only gazed at
it in a stolid sort of fashion.

"No can fix," he said. "Missee no can ride. Better go back bed."

Lenora pushed him on one side. With a great effort she managed to reach
her place in the saddle. Then she turned and, with her face to the depot,
galloped away. The pain was excruciating. She could only keep herself in
the saddle with an effort. Yet all the time that one sentence was ringing
in her mind--"Tongues of flame!" She kept looking around anxiously.
Suddenly the road dropped from a little decline. She was conscious of a
wave of heat. In the distance she could see the smoke rolling across the
open. She touched her horse with the quirt. The spot which she must pass
to keep on the track to the depot was scarcely a hundred yards ahead, but
already the fire seemed to be running like quicksilver across the ground
licking up the dry greasewood with indeed a flaming tongue. She glanced
once behind, warned by the heat. The fire was closing in upon her. A puff
of smoke suddenly enveloped her. She coughed. Her head began to swim and a
fit of giddiness assailed her. She rocked in her saddle