uld not discern Torrance anywhere. He turned his eyes ahead and watched
the bluff rise higher, though the white levels seemed to flit back to him
with an exasperating slowness. Beyond it a faint grey smear rose towards
the blue; but the jaded horse demanded most of his attention, for the sod
was slippery here and there where the snow had lain in a hollow, and the
beast stumbled now and then.

Still, the birches were drawing nearer, and Hetty holding ahead of him,
though the roar of hoofs behind him told that the pursuers were coming up
fast. He was not certain yet that he could reach the trees before they
came upon him, and was clawing with one hand at his rifle when Hetty cried
out faintly:

"There are more of them in front."

Grant set his lips as a band of horsemen swung out of the shadows of the
bluff. His eyes caught and recognized the glint of sunlight on metal; but
in another moment his heart leaped, for through the drumming of their
hoofs there came the musical jingle of steel, and he saw the men were
dressed in blue uniform. He swung up his hat exultantly, and his voice
reached the girl, hoarse and strained with relief.

"We are through. They are United States cavalry!"

The horsemen came on at a trot, until Grant and the girl rode up to them.
Then, they pulled up, and when Grant had helped Hetty down their officer,
who wheeled his horse, sat gazing at them curiously. Grant did not at once
recognize him, but Hetty gasped.

"Larry," she said faintly, "it's Jack Cheyne."

Grant drew her hand within his arm, and walked slowly forward past the
wondering troopers. Then he raised his broad hat.

"I claim your protection for my wife, Captain Cheyne," he said.

Cheyne sat very still a moment, looking down on him with a strained
expression in his face; and Grant, who saw it, glanced at Hetty. She was
leaning heavily upon him, her garments spattered with mire, but he could
not see her eyes. Then Cheyne nodded gravely.

"Mrs. Grant can count upon it," he said. "Those men were chasing you?"

"Yes," said Grant. "One of them is the Sheriff. I believe he intends to
arrest me."

"Sheriff Slocane?"

"Yes. I shall resist capture by him; but I heard that the civil law would
be suspended in this district, and if that has been done, I will give
myself up to you."

Cheyne nodded again. "Give one of the boys your rifle, and step back with
Mrs. Grant in the meanwhile. You are on parole."

He said something sharply, a