st flung its head up, and next moment they were flying at a gallop
down the winding and almost precipitous trail. Alton's strength had
not returned to him, and he set his lips, realizing the uselessness of
it as he shifted his numbed hands on the bridle. Twice the horse
stumbled, but picked up its stride again, and the man had almost
commenced to hope they might reach the foot of the declivity when it
stumbled once more, struck a young fir, and reeled downwards from the
trail.

It all happened in a moment, but there was just time enough for Alton
to clear his feet from his stirrups, and though he was never quite sure
what next he did he found himself sitting in the snow, shaken and dazed
by his fall, while the horse rolled downwards through the shadows
beneath him. He heard the brushwood crackle, and then a curiously
sickening thud as though something soft had fallen from a height upon a
rock. After that there was an oppressive silence save for a faint
drumming that grew louder down the trail.

Alton unslung the rifle which still hung behind him, and crawled behind
a big hemlock that grew out of the slope. He could hear nothing but
the increasing thud of hoofs for a while, and then there was a sound
that suggested stealthy footsteps in the darkness up the trail. Alton
crouched very still and waited, but the footsteps came no nearer, and
then pitching up the rifle fired in their direction at a venture. The
sound ceased suddenly, and while the great trunks flung back the
concussion it was evident that the rider was coming on at a furious
gallop, and Alton rising sent out a hoarse cry, "Pull him before you
come to the edge of the dip!"

The beat of hoofs sank into silence, and a shout came down. "Hallo.
Is that you, Harry?"

"Yes," said Alton. "Lead your beast down."

It was five minutes later when Seaforth found him leaning against a
tree with the rifle in his hand.

"What was the shooting for, and where's your horse?" said he.

Alton appeared to laugh softly and venomously, and his voice jarred
upon the listener. "Down there, and stone dead. The last drop's most
of a hundred feet," he said.

"But how did he get there?" and Seaforth felt a little chill strike
through him.

Alton grasped his arm, and his voice was harsher still. "This is the
second time."

"Good Lord!" said Seaforth, who understood him, huskily.

"Well," said Alton, "I think the thing's quite plain. If we could get
down to the p