"I came in this morning. Mrs. Clayton told me you had gone to Carlisle, and would be back about this time. I have felt anxious about you ever since I heard you had undertaken this journey." Again both repeated their gratitude for his timely assistance. He could see they were trembling. "Your horses were running away," he said. "They are nervous creatures, and are still frightened." After a while, he suggested that they drive on slowly, while he kept guard, in case wolves should pursue them farther. Then he mounted his horse, and rode beside their carriage. So they covered the remaining distance, talking of many things that had happened during the weeks of his absence. As they approached the Clayton residence, Mrs. Clayton and Carla came out to welcome them. "How are you, Edith?" questioned the anxious mother. "I hardly know," answered the girl. "I've been frightened nearly to death. I guess the fright cured me." "I think she is better," added Esther. "Dr. Brown's medicine has helped her." "But what frightened you?" asked the mother. Then Edith told of the peril of the ford, and of the pursuit of the wolves, dwelling on Kenneth's opportune assistance. "We owe a great deal to you, Kenneth," said Mrs. Clayton, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh, that was only a trifle, Mrs. Clayton," he said, carelessly. "Come dine with us to-night, Kenneth, won't you?" asked his friend. After thanking her, he mounted his horse, lifted his cap, and went on his way to headquarters. And Esther Bright! What was in her heart? We shall see. CHAPTER XVII THE DAY OF THE GREAT RACE It was pay-day in Gila. Miners from far and near were in camp. Cow-punchers had come from the range; cowlasses, also, were to be seen here and there, chaffing with men they knew. The one street had suddenly taken on human interest. Representatives of different nations were to be seen in all directions, some going to, and some coming from the saloons. Groups of men and women gathered to gossip. Comments on affairs of the community, and especially on the approaching race, were freely interlarded with profanity. Along the street, strolled Lord Kelwin, puffing away at a cigar. Apparently he was a good "mixer." "So you've entered your mare fur the race," said a cow-puncher, slapping him familiarly on the back. "What in blank do you expect her to do? She ain't fit fur nothin' but takin' gals hossback ridin', eh?" And he laughed uproariously at his attempt at wit. "Better cut out that part of the race. That belongs to another brand o' cattle. Come! Have a drink." Saying which, they entered the saloon where Pete Tompkins presided. The air was already stiff with smoke and profanity. Men had congregated there soon after receiving their wages.