trong will of a man, Sledge Hume rode the one trail open to him. It
was as though the deeds of his life were now grown tangible separate
squares of rock cemented into sheer walls rising about him, narrowing,
forcing him into the one way open.

He rode into El Toyon and signed the deed before a notary. He returned
it by a boy to Helga Strawn, and by the same messenger he sent back her
horse. From the stable he hired another animal, and with no friendly
word to man, woman or child, struck out for the Echo Creek. As he rode
by the court house he looked at it curiously. Wayne Shandon was there,
was spending his brief time in jail very much as an honoured guest. He
would come out in a few days and then--then MacKelvey would be looking
for another man--

Hume turned and rode back into town, going this time to the bank.
Explaining briefly that he expected to turn a big deal and would need
the ready cash, he drew out all but a few dollars of his emergency
fund. His lips were tight pressed, his eyes hard, as he rode by the
jail again and out into the county road. The sight of MacKelvey at an
open window talking with Brisbane and Edward Kinsell, made him frown
blackly. Little things had come to be full of significance.

It was nearly fifty miles to Martin Leland's. But Hume had ridden
early to Helga Strawn and now had a strong, fresh horse under him.
Looking at his watch, he saw that it was not yet half past nine. He
could make it by half past four or five, riding hard. And he was in
the mood for hard riding.

Very few times did he stop on the long way. Once he paused at a little
road house for a pound of cheese and some bread; once at a certain
crossing where a broad trail crossed Echo Creek. He sat here a moment,
motionless, staring out across the little valley lying warm under the
afternoon sun, his eyes running up and down along the course of the
stream.

Raking his spurs against his horse's sweat-dripping sides he rode on.
In half an hour he threw himself from the saddle at Leland's house.

He heard the sound of singing within, a girl's voice lilting
wordlessly, happily, bespeaking a heart that was brimming with the pure
joy of life and love. Striding to Leland's office he flung the door
open. In a moment, answering his impatient rap, Martin entered.

"I've come to talk business," Hume said, flinging himself into a chair.
"What's doing?"

"What do you mean, Mr. Hume?" Leland asked gravely.

"I want