I'll go. You
poke along the trail slow, an' I'll overhaul yuh."

"All right," MacRae agreed, and Piegan forthwith departed for the
Crossing.

After Piegan left us we rode at a walk, and even then it was something
of a task to follow the faint impression. In the course of an hour a
cluster of dark objects appeared on the bench, coming rapidly toward us.
MacRae brought the glasses to bear on them at once, for there was always
the unpleasant possibility of Mounted Policemen cutting in on our trail;
the riders of every post along the line were undoubtedly on the watch
for us.

"It's Piegan and another fellow," Mac announced shortly. "They're
leading two extra horses, and Piegan has changed mounts himself. I
wonder what's up--they seem to be in a dickens of a hurry."

We got off and waited for them, wondering what the change of horses
might portend. They swung down to us on a run, and it needed no second
glance at the features of Piegan Smith to know that he brought with him
a fresh supply of trouble. His scraggly beard was thrust forward
aggressively, and his deep-set eyes fairly blazed between narrowed lids.

"Slap your saddles on them fresh hosses," he grated harshly from the
back of a deep-chested, lean-flanked gray. "Let the others go--to hell
if they want to!"

"What's up?" I asked sharply, and MacRae flung the same query over one
shoulder as he fumbled at the tight-drawn latigo-knot.

Piegan rose in his stirrups and raised a clenched fist; the seamed face
of him grew purple under its tan, and the words came out like the
challenge of a range-bull.

"Them--them ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- has got your girl!" he roared.

The latigo dropped from MacRae's hand. "What?" he turned on Piegan
savagely, incredulously.

"I said it--I said it! Yuh heard me, didn't yuh!" Piegan shouted. "This
mornin' about sunrise. That Hicks--the damned ---- ---- ---- he come t'
Baker's as they hooked up t' leave the Spring. He had a note for her,
an' she dropped everything an' jumped on a hoss he'd brought an' rode
away with him, cryin' when she left. He told Horner you'd bin shot
resistin' arrest, an' wanted t' see her afore yuh cashed in. They ain't
seen hide nor hair uh her since. Aw, don't stand starin' at me thataway.
Hurry up! They ain't got twelve hours' start--an' by God I'll smell 'em
out in the dark for this!"

It was like a knife-thrust in the back; such a devilish and unexpected
turn of affairs that for half a second I ha