she drew him off the hard road on to the grass and
loosed him into a trot. Half a mile from the house she was swinging
at a hard gallop down the dark valley. The soft night wind pressed
its caresses on her flushed cheek, but her heart beat fast with
excitement and impatience, and she galloped the foaming horse to the
limit of his speed. More than once even the sure-footed ranger almost
fell over the treacherous badger-holes, but she had learned to ride
like the saddle itself, and she merely tightened the rein and urged
him faster.

Two hours of such violence were a safety-valve to her emotions, and
both horse and rider were content to enter the little town at a walk.
Here and there a coal-oil lamp shed its cube of yellow light through
an unblinded window, but the streets were deserted and in utter
darkness. She had now reached the point at which her general plan to
see Travers must be worked out into detail, and she allowed the horse
his time as she turned the matter over in her mind. She had no doubt
that if she found Sergeant Grey he would permit an interview, but she
shrank from making the request. She might do so as a last resort; but
if possible she meant to seek out her lover--for so she thought of
him--for herself. She knew that the jails in the smaller towns were
crude affairs, where the prisoner was locked up and usually left
without a guard. The first thing was to find the jail.

At a crossing her horse almost collided with a boy returning home
from some late errand. "Oh, Mr. Boy," she said. "Come here, please, I
want you to help me."

The boy approached hesitatingly, as though suspicious that some kind
of trick were being played on him.

"Can you tell me," she said, in a low voice, "where the jail is? I'll
give you a dollar if you do."

"There ain't no jail here, miss," he replied frankly, evidently
satisfied that the question was bona fide. "There's a coop, but you
wouldn't give a dime to see it. It's just a kind of a shed."

"That's just what I want to find," she continued, "and I'll give you
a dollar to show me where it is."

"Easy pickin'," said the boy. "Steer your horse along this way."

He led her through the main part of the town, to where a one-storey
building, somewhat apart, stood aloof in the darkness.

"Some coop, ain't it?" said her guide, with boyish irony. "My dad
says that's what we git fer votin' against the Gover'ment. The fire
truck's in the front end, an' there's a cell with b