aying over and over again. He was telling her that
he loved her, would always love her, that he could forgive Lew Hervey,
even, because of the message which he had brought.

Had she confessed everything, then, in the hysteria? Had she confirmed
what Lew Hervey said? Yes, for the voice of Red Jim was unquestioning,
cherishing as men will the thing which they love and own.

"You're better now?" he asked at length.

"Yes," she answered, "I'm weak--and ashamed--and--what have I said to
you?"

"Something that's made me happier than a king. And I'll make it a
thing you'll never have to regret, so help me God!"

He raised her to her feet.

"Now you have to go home--at once."

"And you?"

"Hervey will come hunting me again tomorrow, and he'll have his men
with him. He doesn't know I've forgotten him. He thinks it's his life
or mine, and he'll try to run me down."

"The sheriff--" she cried fiercely.

"That's where I'm going. To Glosterville to hide like a coward where
the sheriff can look out for me. I can't take chances now. I don't
belong to myself. When your father comes back and takes charge of the
ranch, and Hervey, I'll come when you send for me. I'll get my things
together to-night, ride down the valley so they can't trap me again
here, camp out for an hour or so in the morning, and then cut out
across the Eagles. But you're strong enough to ride home?"

She nodded, and they walked side by side out across the clearing and
down towards the place where she had left the bay. And it seemed to
Marianne, leaning a little on the arm of Red Jim, that she had shifted
the whole burden of her worries onto the shoulders of her lover. Her
troubles disappeared. The very sound of his voice assured her of
happiness forever.

They found the bay. The tough little mustang was already much
recuperated, and Perris swept Marianne into the saddle. She leaned to
kiss him. In the dark her lips touched the bandage around his head.

"It's where Hervey struck you down!" she exclaimed. "Jim, you can't
ride across the mountains so terribly hurt--"

"It's only a scratch," he assured her. "I met Alcatraz to-day, and he
won again! But the third time--"

Marianne shivered.

"Don't speak of him! He haunts me, Jim. The very mention of him takes
all the happiness out of me. I feel--almost as if there were a bad
fate in him. But you promise, that you won't stay to take one final
chance? You won't linger in the Valley to hunt Alcatraz aga