one.
Looking backward, Jane saw Tull's white horse not a mile distant, with
riders strung out in a long line behind him. Looking forward, she saw
more valley to the right, and to the left a towering cliff. Lassiter
pulled the horse and kept on.

Little Fay lay in her arms with wide-open eyes--eyes which were still
shadowed by pain, but no longer fixed, glazed in terror. The golden
curls blew across Jane's lips; the little hands feebly clasped her arm;
a ghost of a troubled, trustful smile hovered round the sweet lips. And
Jane Withersteen awoke to the spirit of a lioness.

Lassiter was leading the horse up a smooth slope toward cedar trees of
twisted and bleached appearance. Among these he halted.

"Jane, give me the girl en' get down," he said. As if it wrenched him he
unbuckled the empty black guns with a strange air of finality. He then
received Fay in his arms and stood a moment looking backward. Tull's
white horse mounted the ridge of round stone, and several bays or blacks
followed. "I wonder what he'll think when he sees them empty guns. Jane,
bring your saddle-bag and climb after me."

A glistening, wonderful bare slope, with little holes, swelled up and
up to lose itself in a frowning yellow cliff. Jane closely watched her
steps and climbed behind Lassiter. He moved slowly. Perhaps he was only
husbanding his strength. But she saw drops of blood on the stone, and
then she knew. They climbed and climbed without looking back. Her breast
labored; she began to feel as if little points of fiery steel were
penetrating her side into her lungs. She heard the panting of Lassiter
and the quicker panting of the dogs.

"Wait--here," he said.

Before her rose a bulge of stone, nicked with little cut steps, and
above that a corner of yellow wall, and overhanging that a vast,
ponderous cliff.

The dogs pattered up, disappeared round the corner. Lassiter mounted
the steps with Fay, and he swayed like a drunken man, and he too
disappeared. But instantly he returned alone, and half ran, half slipped
down to her.

Then from below pealed up hoarse shouts of angry men. Tull and several
of his riders had reached the spot where Lassiter had parted with his
guns.

"You'll need that breath--mebbe!" said Lassiter, facing downward, with
glittering eyes.

"Now, Jane, the last pull," he went on. "Walk up them little steps. I'll
follow an' steady you. Don't think. Jest go. Little Fay's above. Her
eyes are open. She jest said to