eld down to her and
leaped up beside the saddle, the arch of her foot resting lightly on the
toe of his boot. Almost with the same motion she swung astride the
cow-pony. It jumped to a gallop and Ramona clung to the waist of the man
in front of her. She could hear plainly now the yells of the exultant
savages.

The outlaw knew that it would be nip and tuck to reach Palo Duro, close
though it was. He abandoned at once his hopes of racing up the canon
until the Apaches dropped the pursuit. It was now solely a question of
speed. He must get into the gulch, even though he had to kill his bronco
to do it. After that he must trust to luck and hold the redskins off as
long as he could. There was always a chance that Ellison's Rangers might
be close. Homer Dinsmore knew how slender a thread it was upon which to
hang a hope, but it was the only one they had.

His quirt rose and fell once, though he recognized that his horse was
doing its best. But the lash fell in the air and did not burn the flank
of the animal. He patted its neck. He murmured encouragement in its ear.

"Good old Black Jack, I knew you wouldn't throw down on me. Keep
a-humpin', old-timer.... You're doin' fine.... Here we are at Palo
Duro.... Another half-mile, pal."

Dinsmore turned to the left after they had dropped down a shale slide
into the canon. The trail wound through a thick growth of young foliage
close to the bed of the stream.

The man slipped down from the back of the laboring horse and followed it
up the trail. Once he caught a glimpse of the savages coming down the
shale slide and took a shot through the brush.

"Got one of their horses," he told 'Mona. "That'll keep 'em for a while
and give us a few minutes. They'll figure I'll try to hold 'em here."

'Mona let the horse pick its way up the rapidly ascending trail.
Presently the canon opened a little. Its walls fell back from a small,
grassy valley containing two or three acres. The trail led up a ledge of
rock jutting out from one of the sheer faces of cliff. Presently it
dipped down behind some great boulders that had fallen from above some
time in the ages that this great cleft had been in the making.

A voice hailed them. "That you, Homer?"

"Yep. The 'Paches are right on our heels, Steve."

Gurley let out a wailing oath. "Goddlemighty, man, why did you come
here?"

"Driven in. They chased us ten miles. Better 'light, ma'am. We're liable
to stay here quite a spell." Dinsmore unsa