“Yes; I promised him a reward for his services, and my sweet Cousin Mary gave it to him; only it was lead instead of gold,” laughed Kent King. “You think no one heard the shot and will pursue?” “My reverend father, pistol shots are too common to attract much attention out here; but if we are pursued, it will be by a few decrepit old men and young boys, for all the fighters are out in the mountains after me. They will return to-morrow or next day victorious, in all save my capture; ha, ha, ha!” “You are a very devil, Kenton!” “I am my father’s son; but have you the relays of horses all right?” “Yes, Mendez and myself placed them. The first relay is five miles from here, so we can urge these on faster.” “I wish Mary would recover, so I could force her to ride. Then we could dash rapidly along. As it is, her weight retards my horse.” “She certainly remains in a swoon long, Kenton.” “Oh! it won’t hurt her, and being unconscious is better than hysterics or shrieks.” “You will find her a hard one to tame, my son.” “I think not; I have ever been noted as a woman tamer; but as I intend to reform now, and she gets a large fortune, and we go to Europe, I hope she will be sensible. If not, she seals her own fate, as soon as I get her money into my hands.” “I am sorry you shot her father, Kenton.” “Bah! regret nothing, my honored parent. If I allowed myself to regret the past, I should have troops of phantoms haunting me day and night. Hello! Mary is recovering.” “Fiend! murderer! release me!” groaned the poor girl, almost broken-hearted at the fate of her father. “No, Cousin Mary, I cannot think of such a thing. Keep quiet, and I will not harm you, but if you cry out, I will gag and bind you.” “Oh, God, have mercy upon me!” cried Mary. “Cousin mine, that prayer is more frequent on the lips of men and women than any other, and it is less answered,” sneered Kent King. Then, grasping her more firmly in his arms, he urged his horse on at a more rapid pace. Before long they came to a secluded spot, a ravine, in which stood three horses, and by one a sidesaddle. “Now, my sweet cousin, if you will go willingly I will let you ride; if not, I will carry you,” said Kent King. “I will ride, if I must; anything to escape your loathsome touch.” “So be it; father, please saddle that white steed for my cousin, and then change our saddles.” “And what must we do with these horses?” asked the man, turning to those they had just ridden to the spot. “Draw your knife across their throats.” “What!” “Of course, for it will keep pursuers from following on them; why do you hesitate to kill a brute, when you have taken human life?” “Boy, don’t call up that phantom from the past!” sternly said the older villain. “Bah, don’t be a child; don’t let the ‘boy be father to the man’; come, now, my sweet cousin!”