"Shall we ride very far?"

"No, just a pleasant little jog," replied the horseman. "They call it
forty miles to Goldite by the ridge, but it isn't an inch over thirty."

Thirty miles!--over the mountains!--with an unknown man and her maid!
Beth suppressed a gasp of despair and astonishment, not to mention
trepidation, by making an effort that verged upon the heroic.

"But we--we can never arrive in Goldite tonight!" she said. "We can't
expect to, can we?"

"It takes more than that to kill these bronchos," Van cheerfully
assured her. "I can only guarantee that the horses will make it--by
sunset."

Beth flushed. He evidently entertained a very poor notion of her
horsemanship. Her pride was aroused. She would show him something--at
least that no horse could make this journey without her!

"Thank you," she said, and advancing to the roan she addressed herself
to Dave. "Will you please help me up. Mr. Van may assist my maid."

Dave grinned and performed his offices as best he could, which was
strongly, if not with grace. Van shook a threatening fist, behind his
captive's back. He had meant to take this honor to himself.

Fairly tossing the greatly delighted little Elsa to the seat on the
bay, he mounted his own sturdy animal and immediately started for the
canyon below, leaving Beth and her maid to trail behind.