Tears blinded her, and, turning away quickly, she stared unseeing through a blurring haze, fighting desperately for at least a semblance of self-control. He was so confident, so terribly sure of himself! What if he could do the thing he said? She did not see how such a ghastly horror could be possible; but then, what did she know of conditions in the place to which he was taking her? Suddenly, as she struggled against that overpowering weight of misery and despair, her thoughts flew longingly to another man, and for an instant she seemed to look into his eyes--whimsical, a little tender, with a faint touch of suppressed longing in their clear gray depths. "Buck! Oh, Buck!" she yearned under her breath. Then of a sudden she felt a hand on her bridle and became aware that Lynch was speaking. "We'll stop here for a bit," he informed her briefly. "You'd better get down and stretch yoreself." She looked at him, a little puzzled. "I'm quite comfortable as I am," she returned stiffly. "I expect yuh are," he said meaningly. "But I ain't takin' any chances." With a wave of his hand he indicated a steepish knoll that rose up on their left. "I'm goin' up there to look around an' see what the country looks like ahead," he explained. "I'll take both cayuses along, jest in case yuh should take the notion to go for a little canter. Sabe?" Without a word she slipped out of the saddle and, moving to one side, listlessly watched him gather up the reins of her horse and ride toward the foot of the hill. Its lower levels sloped easily, and in spite of the handicap of the led horse, who pulled back and seemed reluctant to follow, Lynch took it with scarcely a pause. There came a point, however, about half way to the summit, from which he would have to proceed on foot. Lynch dismounted briskly enough and tied both horses to a low bush. Then, instead of starting directly on the brief upward climb, he turned and glanced back to where Mary stood. That glance, indicating doubt and suspicion, set the girl suddenly to wondering. Ever so little her slim figure straightened, losing its discouraged droop. Was it possible? He seemed to think so, or why had he looked back so searchingly? Guardedly her glance swept to right and left. A hundred feet or so to the south a spur of the little hill thrust out, hiding what lay beyond. If she could reach it, might there not possibly be some spot in all that jumble of rocks and gullies where she at least might hide? Filled with a new wild hope; realizing that nothing she might do could make her situation worse, Mary's eyes returned to the climbing man, and she watched him narrowly. Little by little, when his back was toward her, she edged toward the spur. She told herself that when he reached the top she would make a dash, but in the end her tense, raw nerves played her false. Quivering with eagerness, she held herself together until he was within twenty feet or more of the summit, and then her self-control snapped abruptly.