The fugitive himself heard the hound's sonorous summons, and wasted breath in cursing. He cursed his potations over-night, which had led him to sleep beyond the sunrise. But for such drunken folly, he would have had the trailer hopelessly at fault. Now, at best, it would be a close race--and there was the girl to hamper and hinder. She was running at his side, obedient to the pressure of his hands. He had replaced the cowhide thong, with her hands in front of her, and with play enough for free movement. So far, she had made no resistance to his commands. But the barking of the dog would warn her. If she should turn balky-- What the outlaw feared, came to pass. The hoarse baying sounded to Plutina's ears like sweetest music. The first note told her that friends were at hand for a rescue from the monster by her side. Her heart leaped in the joy of it. A new courage surged in her--courage to defy this creature that held her in thrall. They were come already across the most of the plain of naked rock that is the top of the mountain. They had rushed without pause through the little grove of dwarf pines that grows near the Devil's Slide, above the Cauldron. They were come, indeed, to the very edge of the Slide itself before Plutina acted. After all, it was not the new courage, but a newer fear, that forced her. She had one swift glimpse of the valley spread a thousand feet below, the giant trees like tiniest saplings, so far away--that dear, adorable valley, where were home and peace and love. But, between her and it, the precipice fell; between her and it, the Devil's Pot boiled; between her and it was this man, who drove her with curses. She looked away from the beloved valley into the loathsome face, and she saw the fear in his eyes--fear, and something else that terrified her. She realized suddenly that she was on the very verge of the Slide, where none might venture and live. There, just beyond, was the darkened surface of the rock where the shallow stream went slithering down into the Cauldron. An hysteria of fear gripped her, as he dragged her forward, out upon the sloping stone that dipped toward the abyss. She believed that he meant to hurl her from the height. Thus, there would be left no evidence of his crime. His passion for her was nothing now--only his passion for life. "Quick, damn ye!" Hodges rasped. "I know the way in the dark. Ye needn't be skeered none with me."