that enemies were behind
them--before them; still the thought awakened no dread or concern or
interest.

At his bidding she mounted and rode on close to the heels of his burro.
The canyon narrowed; the walls lifted their rugged rims higher; and
the sun shone down hot from the center of the blue stream of sky above.
Lassiter traveled slower, with more exceeding care as to the ground
he chose, and he kept speaking low to the dogs. They were now
hunting-dogs--keen, alert, suspicious, sniffing the warm breeze.
The monotony of the yellow walls broke in change of color and smooth
surface, and the rugged outline of rims grew craggy. Splits appeared
in deep breaks, and gorges running at right angles, and then the Pass
opened wide at a junction of intersecting canyons.

Lassiter dismounted, led his burro, called the dogs close, and proceeded
at snail pace through dark masses of rock and dense thickets under the
left wall. Long he watched and listened before venturing to cross the
mouths of side canyons. At length he halted, fled his burro, lifted a
warning hand to Jane, and then slipped away among the boulders, and,
followed by the stealthy dogs, disappeared from sight. The time he
remained absent was neither short nor long to Jane Withersteen.

When he reached her side again he was pale, and his lips were set in a
hard line, and his gray eyes glittered coldly. Bidding her dismount, he
led the burros into a covert of stones and cedars, and tied them.

"Jane, I've run into the fellers I've been lookin' for, an' I'm goin'
after them," he said.

"Why?" she asked.

"I reckon I won't take time to tell you."

"Couldn't we slip by without being seen?"

"Likely enough. But that ain't my game. An' I'd like to know, in case I
don't come back, what you'll do."

"What can I do?"

"I reckon you can go back to Tull. Or stay in the Pass an' be taken off
by rustlers. Which'll you do?"

"I don't know. I can't think very well. But I believe I'd rather be
taken off by rustlers."

Lassiter sat down, put his head in his hands, and remained for a few
moments in what appeared to be deep and painful thought. When he lifted
his face it was haggard, lined, cold as sculptured marble.

"I'll go. I only mentioned that chance of my not comin' back. I'm pretty
sure to come."

"Need you risk so much? Must you fight more? Haven't you shed enough
blood?"

"I'd like to tell you why I'm goin'," he continued, in coldness he had
seldom used to