enly two riders flashed
into sight around the curve of the hill. Instantly they pulled their
horses on their haunches and swung them with rein and spur into the deep
washout in the gulch where the giant sagebrush hid them.

It was so quickly done that Dr. Harpe had only a glimpse of flashing
eyes, swarthy skins, and close-cropped, coal-black hair, but the glimpse
was sufficient to cause her to say to herself--

"Breeds--and a long way from the home range," she added musingly. "Looks
like a getaway--what honest men would be smokin' up their horses in heat
like this?"

A barking sheep-dog ran up the road to greet her when, after another
hour of plodding, she finally reached the ridge where she could look
down upon the alkali flat where Dubois had built his shearing-pens, his
log store house and his cabin of one room.

"No smoke. Darned inhospitable, I say, when it's near supper time and
company comin'."

There was no sign of life anywhere save the sheep-dog leaping at her
buggy wheels.

"Can it be the turtle-doves don't know it's time to eat?" she sneered.
"Get ep!"

The grating of the wheels against the brake as she drove down the steep
pitch brought no one around the corner of the house, which faced the
trickling stream that made the ranch a valuable one.

They were somewhere about, she was sure of that, for she had recognized
gray horses feeding some distance away and the sheep-wagon in which they
had left town was drawn up close to the house. She tied her fagged team
to the shearing-pens and sauntered toward the house, but with something
of uncertainty in her face. There was a chance that she had been seen
and the new Mrs. Dubois did not mean to receive her.

A faint, quavering moan stopped her at the corner of the house. She
listened. It was repeated. She stepped swiftly to the doorway and looked
inside. The girl was lying in a limp heap on the bunk, her face, her
hands and wrists, her white shirtwaist smeared horribly with blood,
while an unforgettable look of terror and repulsion seemed frozen in her
eyes. The sight startled even Dr. Harpe.

"What's the matter? What's happened?" She shook her roughly by the
shoulder, for the half-unconscious girl seemed about to faint. "Where's
Dubois?"

She bent her head to catch the answer.

"Outside."

Dr. Harpe was not gone long, but returned to stand beside the bunk,
looking down upon Essie with eyes that in the dimness of the
illy-lighted cabin shone with th