"Then," she said, and for the first time I noticed her eyes blue-black,
with gray rims, "I will kill you," and she whipped out an ugly-looking
revolver. From her face I had no doubt that she would not hesitate to do
as she had said. I changed my tactics, for I was anxious about my pony,
and said, with my best smile:

"Can't you call them back? Won't they obey you?"

Her face changed in a moment.

"Is it your pony? Do you love him very much?"

"Dearly!" I said, persuading myself of a sudden affection for the cranky
little brute.

She sprang upon her pinto and set off down the trail. The pony was now
coursing up and down the slopes, doubling like a hare, instinctively
avoiding the canyon where he would be cornered. He was mad with terror
at the huge brutes that were silently but with awful and sure swiftness
running him down.

The girl on the pinto whistled shrilly, and called to her dogs: "Down,
Wolf! Back, Loo!" but, running low, with long, stretched bodies, they
heeded not, but sped on, ever gaining upon the pony that now circled
toward the pinto. As they drew near in their circling, the girl urged
her pinto to meet them, loosening her lariat as she went. As the pony
neared the pinto he slackened his speed; immediately the nearer dog
gathered herself in two short jumps and sprang for the pony's throat.
But, even as she sprang, the lariat whirled round the girl's head
and fell swift and sure about the dog's neck, and next moment she lay