"Let me see if the cinches are tight," said the horseman quietly, and
he looked to the girth of her saddle.

It was found to be in a satisfactory condition. The girth on the bay
he tightened, carelessly pushing Elsa's foot and the stirrup aside for
the purpose.

His own horse now showed unmistakable signs of weariness. He had
traveled some twenty odd miles to arrive at Dave's before undertaking
this present bit of hardship. Since then Van had pushed him to the
limit of his strength and speed, in the effort to reach Goldite with
the smallest possible delay.

If a sober expression of sympathy came for a second in the horseman's
steady eyes, as he glanced where his pony was standing, it quickly gave
way to something more inscrutable as he looked up at Beth, in advancing
once more to the fore.

"Both of you give them the reins," he instructed quietly. "Just drop
them down. Let the bronchos pick the trail." He paused, then added,
as if on second thought, "Shut your eyes if you find you're getting
dizzy--don't look down."

Beth turned slightly pale, in anticipation of some ordeal, undoubtedly
imminent, but the light in her eyes was one of splendid courage. She
might feel they were all at the gate of something awful, but her nature
rose to meet it. She said nothing; she simply obeyed directions and
looked with new emotions on the somewhat drooping mare to whom her own
safety was entrusted.