"Then," he said in a strained voice, "you must come with me. We can be
married to-morrow."

Hetty held up her hands to him. "I am ready. Oh, be quick. They may come
any minute!"

Larry swept his glance towards the house, and saw a shaft of radiance
stream out as the great door opened. Then, he heard Flora Schuyler's
voice, and, leaning downwards from the saddle, grasped both the girl's
hands.

"Yes," he said, very quietly, "they are coming now. Spring when I lift
you. Your foot on my foot--I have you!"

It was done. Hetty was active and slender, the man muscular, and both had
been taught, not only to ride, but master the half-wild broncho by a
superior daring and an equal agility, in a land where the horse is not
infrequently roped and thrown before it is mounted. But Larry breathed
hard as, with his arm about her waist, he held the girl in front of him,
and felt her cheek hot against his lips. The next moment he pressed his
heels home and the big horse swung forward under its double burden.

A shout rang out behind them, and there was a crackling in the bluff.
Then, a rifle flashed, and just as a cloud drove across the moon, another
cry rose up:

"Quit firing. He has the girl with him!"

Larry fancied he could hear men floundering behind him amidst the trees,
and a trampling of hoofs about the house, but as he listened another rifle
flashed away to the right of them on the prairie, and a beat of hoofs
followed it that for a moment puzzled him. He laughed huskily.

"Breckenridge! He'll draw them off," he said. "Hold fast! We have got to
face the river."

It was very evident that he had not a second to lose. Mounted men were
crashing recklessly through the bluff and more of them riding at a gallop
across the grassy slope; but the darkness hid them as it hid the
fugitives, and the big horse held on, until there was a plunge and a
splashing, and they were in the river. Larry slipped from the saddle, and
Hetty saw him floundering by the horse's head as she thrust her foot into
the stirrup.

"Slack your bridle," he said sharply. "The beast will bring us through."

The command came when it was needed, for Hetty was almost dismayed, and
its curtness was bracing. There was no moon now, but she could dimly see
the white swirling of the flood, and the gurgling roar of it throbbed
about her hoarse and threatening, suggesting the perils the darkness hid.
Her light skirt trailed in the water, and a shock of icy cold