"I don't trust that too much."

Suddenly he pointed out of the window towards the town. "See, I'm right;
there they are, a dozen of 'em mounted. They're off, to run him down."

Her face paled; she glanced towards the Hill of Healing. "He's got an
hour's start," she said; "he'll get into the mountains and be safe."

"If they don't catch him 'fore that."

"Or if you don't get to him first," she said, with nervous insistence.

He turned to her with a hard look; then, as he met her soft, fearless,
beautiful eyes, his own grew gentle. "It takes a lot of doing. Yet I'll
do it for you, Laura," he said. "But it's hard on the Pioneers." Once
more her humour flashed, and it seemed to him that "getting religion" was
not so depressing after all--wouldn't be, anyhow, when this nasty job was
over. "The Pioneers will get over it, Tim," she rejoined. "They've
swallowed a lot in their time. Heaven's gate will have to be pretty
wide to let in a real Pioneer," she added. "He takes up so much room--
ah, Timothy Denton!" she added, with an outburst of whimsical merriment.

"It hasn't spoiled you--being converted, has it?" he, said, and gave a
quick little laugh, which somehow did more for his ancient cause with her
than all he had ever said or done. Then he stepped outside and swung
into his saddle.

It had been a hard and anxious ride, but Tim had won, and was keeping his
promise. The night had fallen before he got to the mountains, which he