ed tide coming in like a
devouring monster eager for its prey.

"Is there a chance, Senor?" cried Jim as soon as his horse gained his
footing.

"It is the fatal day, I fear," replied the Spaniard with resigned
hopelessness. "The sea is hungry."

"As for that, so am I," declared Jim coolly. "So let us try to get
around the headland and after that, supper."

"As you please," acquiesced the Spaniard quietly.

Then Jim turned Caliente's head and with a quick touch of the spur sent
him full stride along the curving beach, followed closely by the
Spaniard. Already the heavy waves were licking far up the slant of the
sand. Even the veteran Caliente seemed nervous at its approach, while
Don Fernando would jump and shy as the hissing water crept around his
feet.

In about two minutes the two horsemen reached the base of the rocky
headland that barred their way. It was a desperate moment, there was but
one thing to do and that was to take the chance.

"Better be drowned quick, Caliente, old boy," cried Jim, "than slowly,
but we'll beat you yet," and he shook his clenched fist at the ocean,
and whirled his horse to meet a wave that struck Caliente breast high.
So for a moment, the two, boy and horse, stood facing their powerful
enemy, The Sea, that came with the recurring charge, its evenly
separated files robed in blue with white crests. Thus they stood getting
a full free breath before they leaped into the ranks of the foe.

Jim's strained, keen gaze took in every detail of the situation, noting
the position of the rocks that a receding wave left bare, so that he
might find a clear path or trail in his dash for life. Nor did his gaze
flinch as he saw the advancing wave break against the front of the
cliff.

"Now, Caliente," yelled Jim, with a sense of fierce determination and
exultation that communicated itself to his horse, and lifting his feet
free from the stirrups so that he would not be entangled, if Caliente
should fall, he headed him seaward, galloping fast down the beach upon
the heels of the withdrawing wave.

Meeting a smaller inrush of water and dashing through its foaming crest,
his gallant horse swam until he got a foothold upon the rocks at the
base of the cliff. Now was the crucial moment. With absolute
recklessness, Jim urged his powerful horse over the foam-covered rocks,
striving to get around the prow of the headland before the charge of the
next wave. Not one look did Jim give seaward, all his en