ith his burden, she was aware of the horrors
surrounding them, but the face of the man held her, held her without a
qualm of fear--now. If death lay before them she was in his arms.

Buck's thoughts were far enough from death. He had snatched the woman
he loved from its very jaws, and he had no idea of yielding. There was
no comfort for him in the thought of their dying together. Living,
yes. Life was more sweet to him just then than ever it had been
before. And he meant that they two should live on, and on.

They passed the bend and the forking trail loomed up amidst the
shadows. The crisis had come. And as they reached the vital spot Buck
took hold of the horse and reined him up. In a moment the Padre was at
his side with his inanimate burden.

Joan stared at the still form of her relative while the men talked.

"It's got us beat to the eastward," said Buck, without a moment's
hesitation.

"Yes. The fire's right across the trail. It's impassable."

The Padre's eyes were troubled. The eastward trail led to the open
plains.

"We must make the other," Buck said sharply, gathering up his reins.

"Yes. That means----"

"Devil's Hill, if the fire ain't ahead of us."

"And if it is?" Curiously enough the Padre, even, seemed to seek
guidance from Buck.

"It sure will be if we waste time--talkin'."

Caesar leapt at his bit in response to the sharp stroke of the spur.

Now Buck had no thought for anything but the swift traveling fire on
his left. It was the pace of his horse against the pace at which the
gale was driving this furnace. It was the great heart of his horse
against endurance. Would it stand the test with its double burden? If
they could reach that bald, black hill, there was safety and rest. If
not--but they must reach it. They must reach it if it was the last
service he ever claimed from his faithful servant. For once in his
life the mystery of the hill afforded Buck hope and comfort. For once
it was a goal to be yearned for, and he could think of no greater
delight than to rest upon its black summit far from the reach of the
hungry flames, that now, like an invading army, were seeking by every
means to envelop him.

Could they make it?

A hundred thoughts and sensations were passing through the man's body
and mind. He was sub-consciously estimating Caesar's power by the gait
at which he was traveling. He was guessing at the rate of the racing
fire. He was calculating the direction of the wind t