and went stumbling down the slope. She swayed as she tried to
mount, but he did not offer his hand. When she was in the saddle he
strode on ahead. Blackie looked after them wistfully.

"The leg's not broken," King told her gruffly. "Just a bad sprain. Not
your fault it isn't worse, though. He'll take care of himself; God knows
he's got as good a chance as we have."

"What do you mean?" she asked quickly.

He merely swung up his arm toward the sky by way of answer and went on.
The second big rain-drop hit Gloria's cheek. It was chill; its dullness
seemed to drive straight to her heart.

_Chapter XX_

The storm caught them as it has caught so many a wayfarer before and
since. The wintry season was not due for a full four weeks, but the
winter had thrust sign and season aside and made his regal entry after
his own ancient fashion. There came a crash of reverberating thunder, a
scurry in the thickening mass of black clouds, a drenching downpour of
rain. For twenty minutes they crouched in what scant shelter was
afforded them by a squat, wide-limbed cedar. Then the wind went ripping
off through the tree-tops, exacting its toll of flying twigs and leaving
in its wake a brief, hushed calm. Through the still air fell scattering
flakes of snow, big and unbroken and feathery. King's eyes were filled
with concern; his face was ominous like the face of the world about him.

Again Gloria's tired body was assured of rest; again King said
expressionlessly: "Come on." This time he helped her into the saddle,
being in haste and of no mind to wait for trifles. He hurried on ahead;
she followed on Buck listlessly, clinging to the saddle, her eyes often
shut.

For an hour it snowed. Though there was no sun it was not dark save in
the deeper canons. Nor was it as cold as Gloria had thought it must
be--or else she was too tired to feel the pinch of the sharp air. But
presently the flakes grew fewer and then ceased utterly. Those that lay
on the ground or clung to branches melted swiftly; and with their
departure the last light of the day was gone. Now King led the horse and
Gloria rode through a gathering darkness. She wanted to ask why they did
not stop; why they did not turn back, but lacked the spirit. Now and
then she half dozed.

At last it was pitch dark and the rain was beginning again. King had
stopped and was helping her down. She was numb now in body; her brain
was numb. The rain hardened into a rattle of hail. The