Bo, breathing hard
and trying to control her feelings. "That's the ride you usually take,
Nell, and you bet--if you'd taken it to-day--you'd not be here now....
About three miles out I climbed off the range up that cedar slope. I
always keep to high ground. When I got up I saw two horsemen ride out
of some broken rocks off to the east. They rode as if to come between me
and home. I didn't like that. I circled south. About a mile farther on I
spied another horseman and he showed up directly in front of me and came
along slow. That I liked still less. It might have been accident, but it
looked to me as if those riders had some intent. All I could do was head
off to the southeast and ride. You bet I did ride. But I got into rough
ground where I'd never been before. It was slow going. At last I made
the cedars and here I cut loose, believing I could circle ahead of those
strange riders and come round through Pine. I had it wrong."

Here she hesitated, perhaps for breath, for she had spoken rapidly, or
perhaps to get better hold on her subject. Not improbably the effect she
was creating on her listeners began to be significant. Roy sat absorbed,
perfectly motionless, eyes keen as steel, his mouth open. Carmichael
was gazing over Bo's head, out of the window, and it seemed that he
must know the rest of her narrative. Helen knew that her own wide-eyed
attention alone would have been all-compelling inspiration to Bo Rayner.

"Sure I had it wrong," resumed Bo. "Pretty soon heard a horse behind. I
looked back. I saw a big bay riding down on me. Oh, but he was running!
He just tore through the cedars. ... I was scared half out of my senses.
But I spurred and beat my mustang. Then began a race! Rough going--thick
cedars--washes and gullies I had to make him run--to keep my saddle--to
pick my way. Oh-h-h! but it was glorious! To race for fun--that's
one thing; to race for your life is another! My heart was in my
mouth--choking me. I couldn't have yelled. I was as cold as ice--dizzy
sometimes--blind others--then my stomach turned--and I couldn't get my
breath. Yet the wild thrills I had!... But I stuck on and held my own
for several miles--to the edge of the cedars. There the big horse gained
on me. He came pounding closer--perhaps as close as a hundred yards--I
could hear him plain enough. Then I had my spill. Oh, my mustang
tripped--threw me 'way over his head. I hit light, but slid far--and
that's what scraped me so. I know my kne