They rode on for a mile or more before any one spoke, when the leader reined up. “How much further, old man, must we go?” “I see’d her jess about thet turn. But she were going up the valler.” “Then we shall soon overtake her; that is, if she was on foot.” “She were.” “Good; come on.” After going half a mile further the old man called upon them to stop. They were now in the heart of a wild country. The mountains loomed up in the distance ahead. On either hand was a rough, broken ravine or gulch running back to the base of the heights. “Hark! I thought mebbe I herd her holler. But my old ears ain’t to be depended on like they were once. Ann Mayhesters, my----” “Shut up your gabble, old fool!” commanded the leader. “I thought I heard some one cry out.” In the silence that followed a faint cry was borne to their ears from the fastness of the region to their right. It was beyond dispute a woman’s voice. “It is her!” exclaimed the old man, excitedly. “She has fell among the rocks.” “It must be she,” declared the officer. “But how in the name of Jackson can we get our horses up the gully? We shall have to leave them.” “So I reckon,” affirmed the scout. “And you’ll have to leave me, too. Hark! there is her cry agin.” There was no mistaking the fact. “You remain here with the horses, Landaff, while the rest of us go up and capture her. We shan’t be gone long.” Quickly suiting action to words they dismounted and started up the ravine. The cry was heard again. The Wizard Scout calmly watched the departure of the five men until they disappeared from sight. He was still sitting on the horse behind the one called Landaff. Suddenly the latter felt a vise-like grip upon his mouth, and the next instant both were struggling on the ground. “Don’t move if you value your life!” hissed the scout in his ear. “I am going to bind you but will not harm you if you are quiet.” It was but a few minutes’ work to carry out his design, and he not only bound but gagged the man. “I’ll risk you now,” he said. The other rolled his eyes and glared furiously upon him, but was powerless to help himself. “Now I’ll just do a little confisticating,” declared Old Fatality, as he prepared to take away a couple of the horses. “As I don’t want you to tell any stories on me I’ll take you along, colonel. Yes, by goll, and I’ll take all of the horses.” Seizing Landaff in his arms as if he had been a child the scout placed him upon the back of one of the horses. He then mounted one of the others, and prepared to lead the rest. Glancing up the ravine to see that the Confederates were nowhere in sight, he started down the road. Walking the animals until beyond the hearing of his enemies the scout then increased their speed. A few minutes later he stopped in front of the place where he had left Mara. She was about to leave her hiding-place feeling certain that he had deserted her. Her joy at his return was very great as may be well imagined.