"Back to my castle!" he mocked. "Back to the mine, where nobody'll come to get you!" On that, Bayard's unexplained warning occurred to the girl and she felt her heart leap. "Not that!" she said, dully. "Oh, Ned, not that. Something awful ... will happen if you go back there." He looked at her, suspecting that this was a ruse. "What makes you think that?" "I was warned never to let you go back there." "Did Bayard warn you?"--leaning low in his saddle that he might see her face better. She answered with a nod. "And why didn't he want me to go back there?" "I don't know, Ned. But--Take my word, I beg of you!" He rose in his stirrups and shook his fist at her. "He steals my wife and tries to frighten me away from my property, does he? What's his interest in the Sunset mine? Do you know? No? Well, we'll find out by to-morrow night, damn him!" He slapped his coat pocket where the automatic rested and lifted his quirt to cut the hindquarters of the slow moving stallion. * * * * * It was late night when they halted at a ranch, and the house was in darkness. "We'll put up here," Ned growled. "We'll make on before daylight ... if we can get this damned horse to move!" He drew back a fist as though he would strike the stallion, for the sorrel had retarded them, insisting on turning and trying to start back toward the Circle A ranch, refusing to increase his pace beyond a crawling walk, held to that only by Ann's coaxing, for she knew that if she gave the animal his head and let him turn back, her husband would be angered to a point where he might abuse the beast. She feared no special thing now. She wanted to reach some destination, some place where she could rest and think. This being led away seemed as only some process of transition; it was unpleasant, but great happiness was not far off. Of that she was certain. But she could not let Ned go on to his mine. Danger of some sort waited there and it was impossible for her to allow him to walk into it. She had planned while they rode that afternoon just how she would make the first move to prevent his reaching the Sunset and as her husband hammered on the door of the house to rouse the occupants she drew a pin from her hat, shoved herself back in the saddle, and, while he was parleying with the roused rancher, scratched swiftly and nervously on the smooth leather. CHAPTER XVI THE MESSAGE ON THE SADDLE The hours he spent in Yavapai that night were memorable ones for Bruce Bayard. He rode the distance to town at a slow walk and arrived after the sun had set. He had no appetite for food but, nevertheless, after washing in the kitchen, he went into the hotel dining room and talked absently to Nora.