"She ain't goin' to turn back, so what can we do?" asked the other. "This here De Launay will probably be up near the crater. Once we get her up there we ain't responsible. But there ain't no telling how soon the snow'll drift. I'm thinkin' one of us ought to mosey back to the ranch and bring in webs and dogs." "He'd better get a-going, then," said Dave. "You'd better stay with the lady and take her on. I hate to leave her alone with a feller like you, but I reckon she'll meet up with her husband by night and he can settle you if necessary. I'll pull my freight out o' here and git the snowshoes and a dog sled and team. We'll maybe need a heap more grub than we've got if we hole up here too long." "You're shoutin'," agreed Dave. Mademoiselle, when the plan was broached to her, made no objection. She was constitutionally fearless where men were concerned, and the departure of Sucatash did not in the least alarm her. She also recognized the wisdom of taking precautions against their being snowed in. Thus the party broke up in the morning. Sucatash, before departing, took his rifle and a full belt of ammunition and fastened it to the girl's saddle. "If Dave gets gay," he said, with a grin, "just bust him where he looks biggest with this here 30-30." After assisting in packing the horses, he mounted and rode down the canyon while Solange and Dave resumed their journey in the opposite direction. Sucatash, as soon as he had passed out of sight, quartered up the side of the canyon where sheep trails promised somewhat easier going than the irregular floor of the gulch. Thus he was enabled to get an occasional glimpse of them by looking backward whenever favorable ground exposed the valley. But he was soon past all hope of further vision, and when the distraction was removed settled down to make the best speed on his journey. He gave no heed to anything but the route ahead of him and that was soon a task that engrossed him. It had been snowing some all night, and it was now slithering down in great flakes which made the air a gray mystery and the ground a vague and shadowy puzzle. Sucatash did not care to linger. Without the girl to care for he was one who would take chances, and he rushed his horse rapidly, slogging steadily along the trails, without attention to anything but the ribbon of beaten path immediately ahead of him. There was every reason to believe that the hills were empty of all humankind except for their own party and De Launay, who was ahead and not behind them. Sucatash was entirely ignorant of the fact that, among the rocky terraces of the canyon, Jim Banker camped, after having followed their trail as long as the light would allow him to do so.