Down there, in the very act of fording the river to get to their side of it, he marked five horsemen--no, six, for he almost missed the leader of the troop, a dusty figure which melted into the background.

All the terror of the first flight rushed back on Vic.

He stood palsied, not in fear of that posse but at the very thought of pursuit.
"There's only one way," he stammered at length.

"I'll--Dan, give me a hand to get a saddle on Grey Molly and I'll laugh at 'em yet.

Damn 'em!" "What you goin' to do ?" It was the same unhurried voice which had spoken to Vic on the day of the rescue and it irritated him in the same manner now.