depression between the foothills and the ridges, and here they made
faster time. The valley appeared miles long. Toward the middle of it
Roberts called out to Joan, and, looking down, she saw they had come
up with Jim's trail. Here Roberts put his mount to a canter, and at
that gait they trailed Jim out of the valley and up a slope which
appeared to be a pass into the mountains. Time flew by for Joan,
because she was always peering ahead in the hope and expectation of
seeing Jim off in the distance. But she had no glimpse of him. Now
and then Roberts would glance around at the westering sun. The
afternoon had far advanced. Joan began to worry about home. She had
been so sure of coming up with Jim and returning early in the day
that she had left no word as to her intentions. Probably by this
time somebody was out looking for her.

The country grew rougher, rock-strewn, covered with cedars and
patches of pine. Deer crashed out of the thickets and grouse whirred
up from under the horses. The warmth of the summer afternoon
chilled.

"Reckon we'd better give it up," called Roberts back to her.

"No--no. Go on," replied Joan.

And they urged their horses faster. Finally they reached the summit
of the slope. From that height they saw down into a round, shallow
valley, which led on, like all the deceptive reaches, to the ranges.
There was water down there. It glinted like red ribbon in the
sunlight. Not a living thing was in sight. Joan grew more
discouraged. It seemed there was scarcely any hope of overtaking Jim
that day. His trail led off round to the left and grew difficult to