Jane rode the longest and fastest race she had ever ridden. She reached the low foothills and, without heeding the fact that she would at once become lost, she entered the cedars and began to climb. At times her horse had to walk and then she heard her pursuer breaking through the cedars. He had to trail her by her horse’s tracks, and so she was able to keep in the lead. It was not long until Jane realized she was lost, but she did not care. She rode up and down and around for an hour, until she was thoroughly tired out, and then up on top of a foothill she reined in her horse and waited to give this pursuer a piece of her mind. What was her amaze, when she heard a thud of hoofs and cracking of branches in the opposite direction from which she expected her pursuer, to see a rider emerge from the cedars and trot his horse toward her. Jane needed only a second glance to recognize Beady Jones. Suddenly she knew that he was not the pursuer she had been so angrily aware of. Jones’ horse was white. That checked her mounting anger. Jones rode straight at her, and as he came close Jane saw his bold, dark face and gleaming eyes. “Howdy, sweetheart,” sang out Jones, in his cool devil-may-care way. “Reckon it took you a long time to meet me as you promised.” “I didn’t ride out to meet you, Mr. Jones,” replied Jane, spiritedly. “I know I agreed to something or other, but even then I didn’t mean it.” “Yes, I had a hunch you was playin’ with me,” he returned, darkly. He reached out a long gloved hand and grasped her arm. “What do you mean, sir?” demanded Jane, trying to wrench free. “Sure I mean a lot,” he said, grimly. “You stood for the love-makin’ of that Springer outfit. Now you’re goin’ to get a taste of somethin’ not so mushy.” “Let go of me—you—you ruffian!” cried Jane, struggling fiercely. She was both furious and terrified. “Shucks! Your fightin’ will only make it interestin’. Come here, you deceitful little cat.” And he lifted her out of her saddle over in front of him. Jones’ horse, that had been frightened and plunging, ran away into the cedars. Then Jones proceeded to embrace Jane. She managed to keep her mouth from contact with his, but he kissed her face and neck, kisses that seemed to pollute her. “Jane, I’m ridin’ out of this country for good,” he said. “An’ I’ve just been waitin’ for this chance. You bet you’ll remember Beady Jones.”