he could almost but not quite discern. In the pale light her face
lost colour. It was idealized, purified, the face of a dream. Her
marvellous crown of hair shone strand by strand as of twisted gold; it
shimmered with halolike glory. Her slightly parted lips, vivid against
the white of the face, seemed to invite him.

He bent forward, and plucked himself angrily back from the temptation.
She released her hand.

"Good night," she said softly.

"Good night," he responded, hesitated, and turned away to his own
quarters.

But as Clyde sought her room she seemed to walk on air. She trembled in
every fibre of her strong, young body, but her blood sang in her veins.
The woman within her called aloud triumphantly. It was long before she
slept, and when she did so her slumber was a procession of dreams.

She awoke somewhere in the night, with a strange sound in her ears, a
detonation distant but thunderous. She rose, went to the window, and
peered out.

As she stood, she commanded a view of Casey Dunne's quarters. The door
opened, and two men emerged, running for the stables. It seemed not a
minute till two horses were led out, ready saddled. The two men went up
instantly. They tore past her window in a flurry of hoofs. She
recognized Casey Dunne and McHale. Neither was completely dressed. But
around the waist of each was a holster-weighted belt, and across each
saddle was slanted a rifle. Because of these warlike manifestations
Clyde slept no more that night.

CHAPTER XIX

As the night air vibrated with the first explosion Casey Dunne and
McHale leaped from their beds, and rushed for the door, opened it, and
stood listening. There they heard another and another.

"Dynamite!" cried McHale, reaching for his clothes. "I'll bet it's our
dam. Jump into some pants, Casey. There's just a chance to get a sight
of somebody."

They threw on clothes with furious haste, caught up weapons, and raced
for the stables. Their haste communicated itself to their horses, which
bolted before the riders were firm in the saddles. Casey, as they tore
past the house, thought he caught a glimpse of white at Clyde's window;
but just then he had his hands full with Shiner, who was expressing his
disapproval of such unseemly hours by an endeavour to accomplish a
blind runaway.

Halfway to the river they came upon the first evidence of dynamite in
the form of a bit of wrecked fluming. Water poured down a sidehill from
a mass of shatt