She did not know what put the thought into her mind, but as she stood there watching the men she repeated mentally over and over the words: "If I stay." Why should she stay? She answered the question by stealing toward Deveny's horse. When she reached the animal she paused, glancing apprehensively at the men, her breathing suspended--hoping, dreading, her nerves and muscles taut. It seemed they must see her. Not a man moved as she climbed upon the back of the horse; it seemed to her as she urged the animal gently and slowly away from the men that they heard nothing and saw nothing but Harlan and Deveny, and that Harlan and Deveny saw nothing but each other. She sent the horse away, walking him for a dozen yards or more, until he crossed the little level and sank into a shallow depression in the trail. Still looking back, she saw that none of the men had changed position--that they seemed to be more intent upon Harlan and Deveny. And she could hear Harlan's voice, now, low, husky. She urged the horse into a lope; and when she had ridden perhaps a hundred yards, the conviction that she would escape grew strong in her. Once out of the valley she would ride straight to Lamo, to ask Sheriff Gage to protect her. She rode faster as she widened the distance that separated her from the men; and soon the horse was covering the trail rapidly; and she leaned forward in the saddle, praying that the men might not see her. She had gone several miles when she noticed a dark object beside the trail ahead of her. She drew the horse down and approached the spot cautiously. And when she saw that the object was a man, her thoughts flew to the shot she had heard, and to Deveny's words: "Make sure of it." It _was_ Linton, she saw, as she halted the horse near the object she had seen. He was lying on his right side, resting his weight on an elbow, as though trying to rise. In an instant she was out of the saddle and at his side, raising his head. He looked at her, smiled, and said weakly: "You got away, eh? I reckon they met Harlan. I was hopin' they would. Did they?" "Yes," she answered quickly. She had seen that Linton was badly wounded, and she knew that she must give up hope of getting to Lamo in order to give him the care he needed. So without speaking further, though with an effort that required the last ounce of her strength, she lifted Linton, he helping a little, and led him toward her horse. Somehow, with Linton doing all he could, she got him into the saddle, climbed up behind him, and sent the horse toward the Rancho Seco.