of them
squeaks and strains when it is pulled against. It is made of wire that
leaves a bitter taste of iron and rust in the mouth when it is touched.
Wire is often very difficult but with teeth and prehensile upper lip it
may usually be worked up high, and finally it will fall over the top of
one of the posts with a rattle, and then the gate is open. Another kind
of fastening rattles very much when the gate is shaken. This means that
a loose board unites gates and post, running in a slot, and the only way
to handle such a gate is to take the loose board by the end and draw it
back as far as possible. Then the gate always swings open of its own
accord. There is a third kind of fastening. Manuel Cordova used it. It
consists of a padlock and chain and where this is found one had better
leave the cursed thing untried for it will never be broken or removed.

By the first shake of the gate and the corresponding rattle Alcatraz
knew that the sliding board fastened it. He sniffed for it and found it
very easily, for always the latch-board is the one heaviest with the
man-scent. He found it and worked it easily back. It caught on a nail.
He tugged again, and as he tugged he quivered at the sound of a human
voice and shrank as though the familiar whip of Cordova had cut him.

"They're a little restless to-night, but aren't they dears, Shorty?"
queried Marianne.

"Kind of dear," said the cowpuncher, "but maybe they're worth the
price." For all his surliness, however, Shorty was her best ally.

"Wait till you see Lady Mary begin to--but isn't that a horse beyond the
corral? A grey horse? I think it is, but it can't be."

"Why not?"

"There isn't a grey horse on the ranch, and--oh!"

For the gate of the corral creaked and then swung wide. They could not
see Alcatraz, for the bay mares stood between.

"Don't move, don't speak!" whispered the girl. "It's that stupid Lucas
man. I told Lew Hervey that he was too careless to take care of the
mares; and the first thing he's done is to leave the gate unlatched.
I'll steal around and--"

At the first sound of the voice the grey mare had drifted deeper into
the safety of the night; Alcatraz with a careful effort pulled open the
gate; and the wind, aiding him, blew it wide, and now the soft whinny of
invitation to the mares cut into the words of Marianne. She went around
the corral bending low, skulking in her run; for once the mares got out
the gate they might bolt like crazy thi