said it was-and they didn't care enough to find out the truth. I had to git."

Noon and the sun shining, melting the snow rapidly. Scotty, aroused by voices, peered through a slit he had cut in the canvas. It was Johnson and the deputy. They paused to discuss the tracks at the foot of his eerie, not satisfied with the previous night's examination. The sun was fast obliterating all trace of human presence. Scotty could hear the saddles creak as they talked.

Johnson was nervy and cool-a man to handle men, and a man whom all men liked, but just now he was peeved.

"We should have had him if those bums in Sierraville were good for anything but to soak booze. They never even telephoned, and if we hadn't met the cowman we would have laid over last night."

"He's got a good start. It's going to storm again. We can't stand another night out. Better rest here and make a fresh start in the morning."

"We can't do it, Magruder. If he get's across the line we'll never find him."

Magruder was not convinced, and they rode on undecided as to what was advisable.

Scotty pondered over his few chances for escape. He was cold and wet, hungry and sullen, and the snow-capped mountains held little promise. A few cabins were scattered among the hollows, and he could procure food from the inmates-perhaps a day's rest. It was his one hope, and he slipped from his perch and away toward the scrubby pines bordering the foothills.

John

The afternoon was advancing. son had refused to return, and they traveled north until Magruder's horse went lame and he was obliged to stop and seek a fresh horse. Johnson had found the track of the fugitive and, confident of his propinquity, rode eagerly toward the mountains, climbing the sloppy trail and scanning the silent steeps as he rode.

Under a hillock, topped by sagebrush and a splotch of snow, a man crouched, watching the approaching Nemesis. His pistol was ready, his hand steeledwaiting. The trail wound up the steep

43

incline, crossing a fissured gully whose edge pitched straight down to a canyon below, where loose shale was massedthe erosions of years.

Johnson came around the bend in the trail. Scotty rose to his feet, his eyes red-hot steel, his lips a thin line-one shot, true to the mark, and his pursuer would be no longer a menace. The sheriff had traversed one-third the dangerous path and suddenly observed the still figure opposite him, when a roaring, swishing noise rent the air and the horse and rider, swept by the crushing and seething mass of rocks and mud, treetops and broken limbs-an avalanche of the mountains-found lodgment in the deep canyon, echoing with the roar of fury and devastation.

Scotty's hand fell limply to his side. Appalled, he gazed at the awful spectacle, then with a wild yell he tore down the mountain-side, down to the very edge of the debris and wreckage, seeking eagerly for a trace of the man who wanted his frail body-to hand over to justice and the law. He shouted and halloed vigorously-only silence but for the bubbling of the terrifying mass before him.

He crawled shakily along the top of a dead prostrate pine-no easy task, for the tree rocked unsteadily in the soft muck, threatening to engulf the ragged figure clinging to its branches. Seated on the blasted tree, Scotty experienced a shakiness of nerves, a sickening sense of horror, a chill loneliness, succeeded by a gasp of surprise-for a little to his left was an arm and hand sticking upright through the branches of a small tree partially buried in the slush of the avalanche.

Scotty crept lightly nearer until he could grasp the hand and move it slightly. Carefully slipping from his tree-top, he worked his way forward and was soon digging wildly, albeit cursing horribly as he battled against the slippery muck. It was the work of a few moments to uncover the head of the unfortunate sheriff, and in a short time he was re leased from his involuntary imprison. ment and sitting erect, bruised but unbroken in limb. No sign of the horse

The sheriff scanned the bank above them. "How are we to get out of this hole? I can't walk much, and you know I'll have to take you back, Scotty."

Scotty paled and his lips compressed. "Let us get away from this hell," he urged. "I'll get you up the hill and go for help. There's a ranch on the other ridge. They'll bring a wagon for you." "You're going with me, Scotty," decided Johnson.

Scotty loosed his hold and Johnson sank down with a moan of pain.

"Nothing doing, Johnson. You can't take me back. You think I didn't risk my life wriggling along that tree-top; think I didn't wrestle with the devil a thousand times while I dug that grave open to release you; think I didn't curse the luck that made me your rescuer; think I didn't know my life was safer with you dead in that muckhole. Johnson, I'll never go back. You can't get to the top alone. It's some job for a strong man, and you're hurt-weak. Instead of being your prisoner, you're mine, Sheriff Johnson, and you can't take me back."

No,

The way was fraught with danger and progress slow. It was dark when they reached the top of the canyon, and Scotty built a fire. They lay beside it all night, Johnson sleepless from pain and discomfort; Scotty sullen and hungry, watching his foe with insane suspicion. At dawn he arose, saying grimly, "I'm going for help and some grub. I'll be back as soon as I get it."

Johnson watched him go, uneasily. "He won't be back," he muttered.

He was mistaken in his estimate of the man whom law and justice demanded. Scotty returned in a few hours. He had sandwiches and a flask of milk, which he gave to Johnson. Silently he waited until the food was eaten, and a wagon was heard approaching from the woods. Then Scotty arose.

He

"Now, Johnson, I have a few words to say before you go. I want to tell you that I didn't intend to kill Covenay. claimed some money of mine and kicked me when I refused to give it to him. He drew the gun and I tried to take it away from him. It went off during the struggle, and I don't know who pulled the trigger. It may have been me, but Covenay drew the gun first."

"Why didn't you tell the crowd that, Scotty?"

"Tell that gang anything? They didn't want to clear me. They egged Covenay on to drink and pick a quarrel with me. I happened on a cache of theirs last week-high grade."

"Tell it in court, Scotty. You know it is my duty to take you back." Johnson's voice was soft, persuasive.

"No chance there. It means penitentiary for me if I stand for trial. They'll convict me to get me out of the way. But I'll go." Scotty's voice was a dry, choked, hoarse whisper. He turned away slowly.

"Here is our man with the wagon."

They were ready to leave when Scotty bent over the sheriff and said bitterly, "You've forgotten something—the papers. You had better arrest me here, where—”

The afternoon sun poured down on the ragged fugitive and on the man who represented law and justice. The one who, perhaps, had taken a life, and had saved a life-the other who sought, not a life, perhaps, but the freedom of a soul, not from choice, but from a sense of duty.

Scotty's face was quivering, his body shaking with emotion. Johnson was pale, his face drawn, perhaps from bodily pain. He looked up dully and held out a trembling hand.

"What was it you said last night, Scotty? I'm no 'damned Boche,' either. Goodbye."

Magruder was waiting for the sheriff at the Riley ranch. In answer to his eager questioning as to Scotty's whereabouts, Johnson vouchsafed only the brief statement:

"He got away over the line," which was perfectly true.

|FTER the round-up and branding

A season, the Wrench Outfit sent me

and Grover Williams with five hundred yearlings to winter at a line camp down on the Malhuer River. There, we settled down for a peaceful life, with no other excitement in view than shooting coyotes, tending our cattle and playing seven up. But life never goes without hitches, so the "sky pilots" say, and our third week in camp began to prove this.

One morning, we were riding for strays when Grover spied a horse some mile or two from us, and, as the animal was riderless, I proposed that we ride over and see what the trouble was. Grover reached the horse a little mite ahead of me, and as I come up he was turning a gent over on the ground.

Looking up, he exclaimed, "Well, Bill, we are sure in for it. We have been pining for dances and female society; but now we have a chance of turning nurse and doctor for this gent has done gone and broke a leg or two."

I tried to look pleasant, and assured Grover that it would break the monotony, but I knew my face gave me the lie. Well-we loaded him on his horse and took him on into camp where we set his leg and tried to make him comfortable. For three or four days, we did little but look after our new boarder and nights we took turns at herding him, as he was some delirious.

Right after this, a big snow storm hit us, so we had to let "His Nibs" shift for himself part of his time, and ride after our cattle, as they had already commenced drifting with the storm.

While we were plowing along we came across another pilgrim. We were riding down a canon, when we heard someone

back in the hills shouting for help for all there was in them. So we rode in the direction of the hullabaloo and there sat the strayed party. It was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Take the strangeness of our meeting (and then I guess her looks, too, had something to do with it), and Grover and I were just plumb speechless. We ain't exactly the bashful kind either. She didn't seem to notice our bewildered state, but chimed out:

Mrs.

"Oh! I am so glad to see you, for I'm absolutely lost. If you gentlemen hadn't come up, I know that I would never have found my way in this awful storm. Woodruff tried her best to persuade me not to go to my school this morning but nothing would keep me home. I did not have the slightest idea how stormy it was. If you had not been near, I certainly would have paid dearly for not listening to good advice. I never can thank you enough if you will help me find my way."

"That's nothing," said Grover. "We are mightily glad we are able to help you, and we are glad, too, to have the chance of meeting you, for we haven't seen a girl in an age. We did not have the slightest idea there was as good looking a girl as you in this whole country, and if you don't object we will have somewhere to go the rest of the time we are here."

"Surely you know I won't object after what you have done for me. I will be glad to see you any time."

"Well, we had better move on out of this snow," I said. "I believe it will be the best idea to go to camp and wait until the storm breaks a little, before trying to make your house, for I think it will let up before night."

She agreed to be governed by what

ever we thought best, so we went back to camp. Dopey-that was the affectionate name we had bestowed upon our patient-was asleep when we got in. The girl glanced at him, when she first went in, and afterwards, the thought struck me that she had recognized him.

"You seem to have a patient," she said looking towards the bed.

"Yes," exclaimed Grover, "we found him a few days ago, lying near his horse with his leg broken. We had a serious time with him at first but he is doing nicely now."

Well it sure did seem homelike to have a woman eat with us once more. We played cards and she told us about her experiences teaching in the West, since she left her home in Pennsylvania.

Along in the afternoon it quit storming, and broke up our house party. After we had escorted her to her boarding house, she insisted upon our coming in and staying a while, but as we had our patient to look after we could not accept. We rode away after receiving a standing invitation to come whenever we could.

I don't know which of us were hardest hit, for we both fell head over heels in love with her. Both of us couldn't leave Dopey at the same time, so we took to playing seven up to see who should go to see her, and who should play trained nurse, and we sure did play some close hands.

Looking after Dopey was one tough job, for he was one of the most ungrateful, silent cusses I ever saw. Never during his stay, did he offer any information about himself, not even as to how he got hurt. His talk was confined to his wants and he seemed to object to saying that much. He would play soltaire until it used to give me the creeps to watch him.

One night after he had gotten so he could walk around, Grover and I went down to see the school marm, and when we came back we found that our guest had taken French leave.

"Well, said Grover, "that's what I call gratitude after all we have done for him -to go off without saving as much as thank you."

"Never mind, Grover. I, for one, am glad to get rid of him and I am not in the least surprised at his manner of leaving considering the way he acted while he was with us and I hope I will never be unlucky enough to see him again."

We took to courting the school marm in dead earnest after this as we had no obstacles in our way; but we were playing a square game, and had no hard feelings over the matter. I about won her consent to marry me, and Grover told me afterwards that she promised him the same thing.

About this interesting stage of the game, we began losing cattle. It seemed as if every time we went out at night we lost a bunch, so we had to give up courting for a while and take to watching our cattle.

After we had broken up the cattle stealing, we decided to go down and see Nellie the school marm. When we got down to Mrs. Woodruff's, however, we got the worst shock of our lives. While we had been looking after our cattle, along come some fellow that she had known in the East and took the girl off and married her.

"Well, Grover," I exclaimed, "how does that hit your young and tender nerves after all our hard courting?"

"Bill, it wouldn't have been so bad if you had beaten me, but for a maverick gent like that to pop up out of the ground and take her is pretty tough. But there is one thing to console ourselves with, we can locate the gent who has been running our cattle off, now that we haven't anything on our minds."

It was something like a month after this before we lost any more cattle, and it was just an accident that we got wise to it in time for pursuit, for we had begun to get careless. Grover went out to see the horses one night and he happened to see a gent cutting out a bunch of our cattle. We got so hot on his trail he had to drop the cattle and look after his own meat.

We ran him down about daylight, just as he had reached a little outfit of his own up in the hills. Our missing steers were part of his herd but the most sur

prising thing was-that he was our for

mer patient, Dopey.

We tied Dopey up, then rounded up our steers and headed them toward camp. When we had the animals corralled, we took our former patient out to a nice big cottonwood and had just started a joy. ful hanging party when suddenly a soft voice chimed out, "Well I don't guess there will be any performance of this kind today. I will give you until I count twenty to get out of sight."

We had only a short time to get away in, but it's a wonder we were able to travel at all, for the person that had the drop on us was our former sweetheart, the school marm, and she held a goodsized six-shooter by the way of argument. Naturally we travelled.

It was some time before either of us spoke after our abrupt departure. Then Grover spoke. "Bill, that's what I call going some. And her hitched up with that Dopey-what do you think of womén anyway?"

"I think we were lucky to lose her," I answered.

When we entered the cabin, we found we had another guest.

47

"Well, boys, I have kinder taken possession. I did not see anything of you, so I thought I would cook myself a bite before going on. I am looking for some rustlers," explained our visitor, who was sheriff of the county. "Have you lost any cattle since you have been down here?"

I looked at Grover and he replied, "No, Sheriff, we have had fine luck, haven't lost a steer since we have been down here."

"My parties must be farther down, then. Jim Bartee and his wife are the parties I am looking for. Sometimes, the woman teaches school in a new country long enough to get the lay of the land, then they work together. A few months ago I came near getting him in Westfall, but he jumped out of a two-story window and got away in spite of the fact that he broke one of his legs. Well, I must leave you now, but you keep a look-out for them; there is a thousand-dollar reward for it."

After he had gone, Grover looked at me and said, "That thousand looks good, but I don't want it." "No, nor I.

That would be telling.".