e you to far places. I'll
make up all you've lost. Oh, I know you love me--knew it before you told
me. And it changed my life. And you'll go with me, not as my companion
as you are here, nor my sister, but, Bess, darling!... As my wife!"

CHAPTER XVII. WRANGLE'S RACE RUN

The plan eventually decided upon by the lovers was for Venters to go to
the village, secure a horse and some kind of a disguise for Bess, or
at least less striking apparel than her present garb, and to return
post-haste to the valley. Meanwhile, she would add to their store of
gold. Then they would strike the long and perilous trail to ride out of
Utah. In the event of his inability to fetch back a horse for her, they
intended to make the giant sorrel carry double. The gold, a little food,
saddle blankets, and Venters's guns were to compose the light outfit
with which they would make the start.

"I love this beautiful place," said Bess. "It's hard to think of leaving
it."

"Hard! Well, I should think so," replied Venters. "Maybe--in years--"
But he did not complete in words his thought that might be possible to
return after many years of absence and change.

Once again Bess bade Venters farewell under the shadow of Balancing
Rock, and this time it was with whispered hope and tenderness and
passionate trust. Long after he had left her, all down through the
outlet to the Pass, the clinging clasp of her arms, the sweetness of
her lips, and the sense of a new and exquisite birth of character in her
remained hauntingly and thrillingly in his mind. The girl who had sadly
called herself nameless and nothing had been marvelously transformed
in the moment of his avowal of love. It was something to think over,
something to warm his heart, but for the present it had absolutely to be
forgotten so that all his mind could be addressed to the trip so fraught
with danger.

He carried only his rifle, revolver, and a small quantity of bread and
meat, and thus lightly burdened, he made swift progress down the slope
and out into the valley. Darkness was coming on, and he welcomed it.
Stars were blinking when he reached his old hiding-place in the split of
canyon wall, and by their aid he slipped through the dense thickets to
the grassy enclosure. Wrangle stood in the center of it with his head
up, and he appeared black and of gigantic proportions in the dim light.
Venters whistled softly, began a slow approach, and then called. The
horse snorted and, plunging a