The cowboy's first words had struck her with the force of a physical blow, and in that first moment, she had been weak and helpless.

She had felt as though a heavy weight pressed her down; a gray mist was before her eyes, and she could not see clearly.

"Phil Acton is shot--Phil Acton is shot!" The cowboy's words had repeated themselves over and over.

Then, with a sudden rush, her strength came again--the mist cleared; she must go to Phil; she must go fast, fast.

Oh, why was this horse so slow! If only she were riding her own Midnight! She did not think as she rode.