“Come through the window,” he bade her. A second later she stood on the porch beside him. “Charlie’s in the willows with horses,” he said tersely. “You streak it now. I’ll stop them if they catch sight of you.” Just a clasp of the hands and she was gone. She had covered more than half of the distance to the creek before Johnny started to follow her. He had not taken twenty steps when the front door flew open and Kent dashed out, gun in hand. “You freeze where you are or I’ll blow your head off!” the old man roared. Johnny tarried not, but sped away as Kent’s gun barked again and again. Johnny turned and fired over his shoulder as he ran. Molly was at the creek. A second or two ought to see her mounted. Dropping to his knees, Johnny emptied his pistol at the house. The firing had brought twenty men to the old man’s side. Johnny could hear him yelling: “He’s stealin’ my girl! Kill him! Kill him! The thief!” The bullets began kicking up the dust at Johnny’s feet. He had to run for it now. “Let’s ride!” he cried as he made the trees. “They’re goin’ for their horses. We won’t have five minutes’ start on ’em.” The drumming of their ponies’ hoofs upon the hard-packed road told Kent that they had got away. “Where are we heading for?” Molly cried as they raced along. “God knows!” Johnny called to her. “Idaho, maybe. To the North Fork first, and then that old stage trail to Boise. I figured we could slip away and cross the line on the run. Can’t do it now! There’s an old mine tunnel near the trail where it drops down the Tuscaroras. We’ll hole up there till night. Got food and water there.” Molly was crying, even though she rode at a breakneck pace. “Don’t—don’t let them take me back,” she begged. “They won’t!” Johnny cried grimly. “You’ll never marry Aaron Gallup! I’ll see to that.” CHAPTER XIX “COME AND GET HIM!” Long before Johnny’s party made the hills they could see that they were closely followed. The dust cloud in back of them came on apace. For an hour the fugitives held their advantage. After that the pursuers’ fresh horses began to gain. “You think we make the mine?” Johnny cried to Charlie Paul. Charlie weighed his answer before delivering it. “Mebbe, I guess we make um.” The Indian patted his rifle and pulled up his horse. Johnny nodded. In another second they had left Charlie far behind. Johnny strained his ears for sound of the Indian’s firing. It came, then, a quick _rat-tat-tat-tat_! Other guns began to roar. The cañon which Johnny and Molly were ascending began to echo and reëcho the shooting. They kept on, Molly half mad, Johnny watching their horses. Some time later Charlie Paul caught up with them, his horse dripping lather. “We make um mine now,” he said with a grin.