een him far out on the north range, headed for the
hills. The Beemans reported that Roy's condition had improved, and also
that there was a subdued excitement of suspense down in the village.

This second lonely night was almost unendurable for Helen. When she
slept it was to dream horrible dreams; when she lay awake it was to have
her heart leap to her throat at a rustle of leaves near the window, and
to be in torture of imagination as to poor Bo's plight. A thousand times
Helen said to herself that Beasley could have had the ranch and welcome,
if only Bo had been spared. Helen absolutely connected her enemy with
her sister's disappearance. Riggs might have been a means to it.

Daylight was not attended by so many fears; there were things to do
that demanded attention. And thus it was that the next morning, shortly
before noon, she was recalled to her perplexities by a shouting out at
the corrals and a galloping of horses somewhere near. From the window
she saw a big smoke.

"Fire! That must be one of the barns--the old one, farthest out,"
she said, gazing out of the window. "Some careless Mexican with his
everlasting cigarette!"

Helen resisted an impulse to go out and see what had happened. She had
decided to stay in the house. But when footsteps sounded on the porch
and a rap on the door, she unhesitatingly opened it. Four Mexicans stood
close. One of them, quick as thought, flashed a hand in to grasp her,
and in a single motion pulled her across the threshold.

"No hurt, Senora," he said, and pointed--making motions she must go.

Helen did not need to be told what this visit meant. Many as her
conjectures had been, however, she had not thought of Beasley subjecting
her to this outrage. And her blood boiled.

"How dare you!" she said, trembling in her effort to control her temper.
But class, authority, voice availed nothing with these swarthy Mexicans.
They grinned. Another laid hold of Helen with dirty, brown hand. She
shrank from the contact.

"Let go!" she burst out, furiously. And instinctively she began to
struggle to free herself. Then they all took hold of her. Helen's
dignity might never have been! A burning, choking rush of blood was
her first acquaintance with the terrible passion of anger that was her
inheritance from the Auchinclosses. She who had resolved never to lay
herself open to indignity now fought like a tigress. The Mexicans,
jabbering in their excitement, had all they could do, until th