It had once been observed that, when driven too far, Mary Fortune became an Indian; and the man who said it knew. For the rest of that day she was afire with a resolution which contemplated even the killing of men. She bought her a pistol and, driving out on the desert, she practised until she could shoot. Then as the sun sank low and Jepson and his men were occupied with sobering up Ike Bray, she drove off in the direction of Geronimo. She was far out on the desert when darkness fell, rushing south on the other road to Tecolote. Within sight of the camp she put out her lamps and, turning her machine out of the road, she crept along until it was hidden from view, then leapt out and started for the butte. It stood against the stars, huge and sinister in its black bulk, and she shuddered as she took the lone trail. Up that very same path the year before Rimrock Jones had rushed on to defend his claim. He had been a man then, or at least a fighting animal; but now he was a soft, pampered brute. He left his fighting to be done by a woman while he spent his money like a fool. The fierce anger from that thought gave courage to her heart and her resentment spurred her on. She toiled on and rested and gazed despairingly at the high crags, but still she kept her face to the heights. As midnight approached and the trail had no ending she stopped and gazed doubtfully back, and then she went hurrying on. A clanking of rocks and the bass guffaw of men had come up to her from below; and terror supplied a whip that even hatred lacked--it was Ike Bray and his drunken guards! As she staggered to the rim and dragged herself past the wall where McBain had come to his death it seemed as if she must drop, but the men were coming behind. She drew a great sobbing breath and, with her hand on her pistol, hastened over to the discovery shaft. It was a black, staring hole and by the dump beside it there stood a sign-post supported by rocks. A pale half moon had risen in the East and by its light she made out the notice that was tacked to the center of the board. That was Rimrock's notice, but now it was void for the hour was long after twelve. She tore it down and stuffed it into her pocket and drew out the one she had prepared. Then, gumming it carefully from a tube of glue, she posted it on the board. Already the voices were coming nearer, but there was one thing more to do--she lit a match and, looking at her watch, wrote the exact time on the blanks. [Illustration: That was Rimrock's notice, but now it was void for the hour was long after twelve]