ngly into her flashing
eyes: "It seems that everyone else knew what I did not. But, I am of a
forgiving nature. I will not see you starve. Leave the others and come
to me----"

"_You cur!_" The words cut like a swish of a lash, and again the man
laughed:

"Oh, not so fast, you hussy! I must admit it rather piqued me to be
bested in the matter of a woman--and by a soul-puncher. I was on hand
early that morning, to spy upon your movements, as was my custom. I
speak of the morning following the night that the very Reverend
Christie spent with you in your cabin. I should not have believed it
had I not seen his horse running unsaddled with your own. Also later,
I saw you come out of the cabin together. Then I damned myself for not
having reached out before and taken what was there for me to take."

With a low cry of fury, the girl drove her spurs into her horse's
sides. The animal leaped against Bethune's horse, forcing him aside.
The quarter-breed reached swiftly for her bridle reins, and as he
leaned forward with his arm outstretched, Patty summoned all her
strength and, whirling her heavy braided rawhide quirt high above her
head, brought it down with the full sweep of her muscular arm. The
feel of the blow was good as it landed squarely upon the inflamed
brutish face, and the shrill scream of pain that followed, sent a wild
thrill of joy to the very heart of the girl. Again, the lash swung
high, this time to descend upon the flank of her horse, and before
Bethune could recover himself, the frenzied animal shot up the valley,
running with every ounce there was in him.

The valley floor was fairly level, and a hundred yards away the girl
shot a swift glance over her shoulder. Bethune's horse was getting
under way in frantic leaps that told of cruel spurring, and with her
eyes to the front, she bent forward over the horn and slapped her
horse's neck with her gloved hand. She remembered with a quick gasp of
relief that Bethune prided himself upon the fact that he never carried
a gun. She had once taunted Vil Holland with the fact, and he had
replied that "greasers and breeds were generally sneaking enough to be
knife men." Again, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled grimly as
she noted that the distance between the two flying horses had
increased by half. "Good old boy," she whispered. "You can beat
him--can 'run rings around him,' as Vil would say. It would be a long
knife that could harm me now," she thought, as s