her tumult of joy, Van spurred his pinto to a gallop. Instantly
responding to her lift of the reins, Beth's roan went romping easily
forward. The bay at the rear, with Elsa, followed rhythmically,
pounding out a measure on the turf.

A comparatively short session of this more rapid locomotion sufficed
for the transit of the cove--that is, of the wide-open portion. The
trail then dived out of sight in a copse where pine trees were
neighbors of the aspens. Van disappeared, though hardly more than
fifty feet ahead. Through low-hanging boughs, that she needs must push
aside, Beth followed blindly, now decidedly piqued by the wholly
ungallant indifference to her fate of the horseman leading the way.

She caught but a glimpse of him, now and again, in the density of the
growth. How strange it was to be following thus, meekly, helplessly,
perforce with some sort of confidence, in the charge of this unknown
mountain man, to--whatsoever he might elect! The utterly absurd part
of it all was that it was pleasant!

At length they emerged from the shady halls of trees, to find
themselves confronted by the wall of mountains. Already Van was riding
up the slope, where larger pines, tall thickets of green chincopin, and
ledges of rock compelled the trail to many devious windings. Once more
the horseman was whistling his Toreador refrain. He did not look back
at his charges. That he was watching them both, from the tail of his
eye, was a fact that Beth felt--and resented.

The steepness of the trail increased. At times the meager pathway
disappeared entirely. It lay upon rocks that gave no sign of the hoofs
that had previously rung metallic clinks upon the granite. How the man