ng carefully over fallen logs; he thrust
his nose out straight and laid back his ears and pushed his way through
thickets of young pines; he went circumspectly along the edge of a deep
gulch, climbed over a ridge and worked his way down the precipitous
slope on the farther side, made his way around a thick clump of spruces
and stopped in a little, grassy glade no bigger than a city lot, but
with a spring gurgling somewhere near. Then he swung his head around
and looked over his shoulder inquiringly at Al, who was coming behind,
leading Snake.

Lorraine looked at him also, but Al did not say anything to her or to
the horse. He let them stand there and wait while he unsaddled Snake,
put a drag rope on him and led him to the best grazing. Then, coming
back, he very matter-of-factly untied Lorraine and helped her off the
horse. Lorraine was all prepared to fight, but she did not quite know
how to struggle with a man who did not take hold of her or touch her,
except to steady her in dismounting. Unconsciously she waited for a
cue, and the cue was not given.

Al's mind seemed intent upon making Skinner comfortable. Still, he
kept an eye on Lorraine, and he did not turn his back to her. Lorraine
looked over to where Snake, too exhausted to eat, stood with drooping
head and all four legs braced like sticks under him. It flashed across
her mind that not even her old director would order her to make a run
for that horse and try to get away on him. Snake looked as if he would
never move from that position until he toppled over.

Al pulled the bridle off Skinner, gave him a half-affectionate slap on
the rump, and watched him go off, switching his tail and nosing the
ground for a likeable place to roll. Al's glance went on to Snake, and
from him to Lorraine.

"You sure do know how to ride hell out of a horse," he remarked. "Now
he'll be stiff and sore to-morrow--and we've got quite a ride to make."

His tone of disapproval sent a guilty feeling through Lorraine, until
she remembered that a slow horse might save her from this man who was
all bad,--except, perhaps, just on the surface which was not altogether
repellent. She looked around at the tiny basin set like a saucer among
the pines. Already the dusk was painting deep shadows in the woods
across the opening, and turning the sky a darker blue. Skinner rolled
over twice, got up and shook himself with a satisfied snort and went
away to feed. She might, if she we