As settlers took up lands and fenced their claims, such pioneer roads were blocked at intervals. To meet this difficulty new trails were made around the gradually increasing obstacles and in the end roads along section lines were laid out, with grading and bridging. But the wagon and cattle trails of the early days, rut-cut, storm-washed, and polished by sun and wind and sand to a shining smoothness, still stretch across country, truncate and deserted. Under their weather-beaten silence lies the story of other days and other men and women. Along one of the earliest and broadest of these trails running into the north country, Laramie, an hour after Bradley's arrival, was galloping with Kate Doubleday. But for the shadow of her father's condition there was everything in the ride to make for Kate's happiness. The sweep of the matchless sky, the glory of the sunshine, the wine of the morning air, the eager feet and spreading nostrils of the horses, and at her side--her lover! The trust a woman gives to a man, the security of his protection, the daily growth of her confidence in her choice and her surrender--these could temper, if they could not extinguish, her confused grief. For Laramie the shadow meant less; sympathy drew him closer to Kate; there was even happiness in knowing that she turned in her distress to him for consolation and guidance. Timidly, she tried to tell him, as they rode, of some of the better traits of her father, traits that might extenuate his cold, hard brutality--as if to build him up a little in the eyes of one she wished not to think of him too harshly. "Don't worry over what I'm going to think about him," said Laramie. "If I worried over what a lot of people think about me, where should I be? There's some good in most every man; but it doesn't always get a chance to work." Kate's anxiety was reflected in her manner. "If only," she exclaimed, "they haven't killed him today." The two had crossed the first divide. Below them lay the Crazy Woman, spanned by the Double-draw bridge. "His friends were his worst enemies," continued Laramie. "But they've got to get out of this country now. And the worst men are out of the Falling Wall. Still if you don't like it there, we won't live there," he added, sitting half sidewise toward Kate in his saddle to feast his eyes on her freshness and youth. "I shall like it anywhere you are, Jim," she said, looking at him simply. The picture was too much for his restraint. He reined eagerly toward her. With a laugh she shied away, struck her horse and dashed ahead. Laramie spurred after her. But they were on the level creek bottom and riding swiftly. She gave him a long run--more than he had looked for.