age. The man blinked at them
in a curious dazed fashion, as he rode on, the dust whirling behind him
and the lather dripping tinged with red from the horse's whitened sides.

Still, the drumming behind grew louder, and he had scarcely sunk into
the shadows when Alton, stripped to shirt and trousers, rode in. He,
too, swayed in the saddle, and his face was foul with dust, but it was
firmly set, and there was a glint in his eyes, while as he swept out of
the shadow of the pines two men led the horse out into the trail. He
reined his beast in upon its haunches, swung himself down, thrust aside
the pitcher somebody tendered him, and with a swing that rent the white
shirt was once more in the saddle. Then there was a scattering of the
crowd and a shouting broke out.

"You'll have him in a league, Harry. Another horse ready at Thomson's
ranch."

Alice Deringham held her breath as, while a third beat of hoofs grew
louder behind, Alton gathered up the bridle and drove his heels home.
The horse, frightened by the clamour, reared almost upright and then
backed across the trail, while the girl wondered with a tense anxiety
whether the man would look up. Then for just a second he turned his
head, and saw her standing on the verandah with a blaze in her cheeks
and a dimness in her eyes.

"Off with you, Harry, and remember you're riding for all of us and
Somasco," cried somebody.

[Illustration: "Remember you're riding for all of us and Somasco,"
cried somebody.]

Alton had the beast's head up the trail now, but as he sent his heels
home he swung up his right hand, and the girl smiled down on him
bravely out of misty eyes.

"And for Carnaby," he cried. "I can't be beaten."

Then the horse shot forward, and he was away, his torn shirt fluttering
as the wind rushed past, while Alice Deringham hastened to the end of
the verandah with Forel to see the last of him just as another man rode
in at a floundering gallop.

The trail led straight beneath the pines, and her heart throbbed
painfully while she watched the second rider closing with the one in
front of him, until the two figures became blurred before her eyes, and
she turned suddenly cold.

"He's fouling him," cried somebody, and a roar of execrations went up.
"Both of them for the same company. The condemned jumper's right
across the trail."

There was silence once more, and the two objects seemed to rush
together, then another roar went up.

"Down. Oh, ye