hour, Marion, and you can toast your cold while I'm
gone."

"But you mustn't go alone!" protested McCloud.

Dicksie lifted her chin the least bit. "I shall be going with you,
shall I not? And if the messenger has gone back I shall have to guide
you. You never could find your way alone."

"But I can go," interposed Marion, rising.

"Not at all; you can _not_ go!" announced Dicksie. "I can protect both
Mr. McCloud and myself. If he should arrive down there under the wing
of two women he would never hear the last of it. I am mistress here
still, I think; and I sha'n't be leaving home, you know, to make the
trip!"

McCloud looked at Marion. "I never worry over what can't be
helped--though it is dollars to cents that those fellows don't need me
down there any more than a cat needs two tails. And how will you get
back?" he asked, turning to Dicksie.

"I will ride back!" returned Dicksie loftily. "But you may, if you
like, help me get my horse up."

"Are you sure you can find your way back?" persisted McCloud.

Dicksie looked at him in surprise. "Find my way back?" she echoed
softly. "I could not lose it. I can ride over any part of this country
at noon or at midnight, asleep or awake, with a saddle or without,
with a bridle or without, with a trail or without. I've ridden every
horse that has ever come on the Crawling Stone Ranch. I could ride
when I was three years old. Find my way back?"

The messenger had gone when the two rode from the house. The sky was
heavily overcast, and the wind blew such a gale from the south and
west that one could hardly hear what the other said. McCloud could not
have ridden from the house to the barn in the utter darkness, but his
horse followed Dicksie's. She halted frequently on the trail for him
to come up with her, and after they had crossed the alfalfa fields
McCloud did not care whether they ever found the path again or not.
"It's great, isn't it?" he exclaimed, coming up to her after opening a
gate in the dark. "Where are you?"

"This way," laughed Dicksie. "Look out for the trail here. Give me
your hand and let your horse have his head. If he slips, drop off
quick on this side." McCloud caught her hand. They rode for a moment
in silence, the horses stepping cautiously. "All right now," said
Dicksie; "you may let go." But McCloud kept his horse up close and
clung to the warm hand. "The camp is just around the hill," murmured
Dicksie, trying to pull away. "But of course if y