This time the mask gave him as great a shock as when he first removed it from her face.

For in the woman he had forgotten the rustler, and this black strip of felt-cloth established the identity of Oldring's Masked Rider.
Venters had solved the mystery.

He slipped his rifle under her, and, lifting her carefully upon it, he began to retrace his steps.

The dog trailed in his shadow.

And the horse, that had stood drooping by, followed without a call.