Bayard thought that they were in the air for seconds. They seemed to float over that wash. Seemed to hang suspended a deliberate instant. Then they came down with a sob wrenched from the horse as his forefeet clawed the far footing for a retaining hold and his hindquarters, the bank crumbling under them, slipped down into the gully. He strained an instant against sliding further back, gathering himself in an agony of effort and floundered safely up! Bruce became conscious that Ann's arms were about his neck, that her body was close against his. He knew that his limbs quivered, partly from the recent fright, partly from contact with the woman. Abe staggered forward a few steps, halted and turned to look at his unfortunate brother galloping lamely toward Yavapai. Except for the animal's breathing, the world was very quiet. For a moment Ann lay in Bayard's embrace; his one arm was about her shoulders, the other hooked behind her knees; then, convulsively, her arms tightened about his neck; she pressed her cheek against his and clung so while their hearts throbbed, one against the other. He had not moved, he refrained from crushing her, from taking her lips with his. It cost him dearly and the effort to resist shot another tremor through his frame. On that she roused. "I wasn't afraid ... after I knew it was you," she said, raising her head. "I was, ma'am," he said, soberly, lifting and seating her on Abe's withers. "I was mighty scared. See what happened to your horse? That ... You'd have been with him in those rocks." He dismounted, still supporting her in her position. "You sit in th' saddle, ma'am; I'll walk an' lead Abe. You're ... you're not scared now?" "A little,"--breathing deeply as he helped her, and, laughing in a strained tone. "I'll ... I'll be frightened later I expect, but I'm not now ... much ... It's you, you keep me from it," she said. "I'm not frightened with you." "I tried to keep things so you won't have to be, ma'am." Probably because she was weak, perhaps wholly because of the hot yearning that contact with him had roused in her, Ann swayed down toward him. It was as though she would fall into his arms, as though she herself would stir his repressed desire for her until it overcame his own judgment, and yield to his will there in the brilliant afternoon; as though she were going to him, then, for all time, regardless of everything, caring only for the instant that her lips should be on his. He started forward, flung up one arm as though to catch her; then drew back. "Don't, ma'am," he begged. "Don't! For the sake ... for your sake, don't." The woman swallowed and straightened her back as though just coming to the complete realization of what had happened. "Forgive me," she whispered.