A CHANGE OF BASE The roan horse which Sim Gage rode was in no downcast frame of mind, but he himself, engrossed with his errand, did not at first notice that it was the same half wild animal with which he had had combat at an earlier time.

He fought it for half an hour or more down a half dozen miles of the road, but at length the brute made matters worse by picking up a stone, and going dead lame, so that any great speed was out of the question.
Night was falling now across the winding trail which passed along the valley lands and over the shoulders of the mountains.

It was wild country even yet, but beautiful as it lay in the light of the fading day.

Sim Gage had no time to note the play of light or shadow on the hills.

He rode.