he fifth of her
royal captivity--she was summoned from her house by the assembled
chiefs in battle paint and feathers. She tried to whisper through the
doorway that the Spirits had forbidden again, but Red Snake answered:

"You are greater than all other Spirits; you will lead us today!"

"Tell them," said Pauline to the interpreter, "that the White Queen
does not lead today!"

Red Snake, his face black with anger, after haranguing the chiefs,
turned to Pauline:

"Daughter of the Earth--twice our warriors have been ready for battle
and you would not lead them. Today you must go before the Oracle and
prove your immortality. The Oracle will tell."

The warriors departed; only the little interpreter remained.

"What does it mean?" cried Pauline.

"It is the race with the Great Death Stone," he answered, and his own
voice trembled. "But," he whispered, "I will ride. I will try to find
help. Wait."

He slipped under the back of the teepee. Unseen by the excited
Indians, he made his way to the line of ponies, with lariats and rifles
swung from their saddles. He picked one and, mounting, rode slowly out
of the village, speaking here and there to the braves he met.

Pauline, left alone, fell upon her knees and prayed.

Harry met Haines and two of his posse on the road to the mountains.

They were on their way back to a general rendezvous ordered by the
Sheriff, but Harry continued on his way up the mountain.

Mile after mile the little mustang put behind him while the sun was
still high. On the slope of a hill they came to a crossroads, and
Harry, riding almost blindly, reined to the right.

The pony swerved wildly to the left.

Instinctively Harry gave the frightened horse its head.

A half mile farther on the animal stopped and sniffed the wind. At the
same instant Harry heard a feeble shout from the road. A weirdly
garbed little half breed lay on the ground holding the bridle of the
horse that had thrown him.

"Ankle gone," he explained. "Riding for help, I help was. You ride
now. White girl--they're killing her up there now."

"White girl? Where? Talk fast, man."

"Two miles over the mountain and down to the valley straight ahead.
You go to the bottom of the valley, not to the top--not where the
Indians are. Climb tree; take my rope; it's the only chance now."

Harry caught the coiled lariat from the other's saddle and rode as he
had never ridden before. All was vague in his mind, ex