There followed a few moments of quiet, broken only by the harsh, ringing pound of his mount's hoofs. Rathburn could see open country just ahead. Then a flash of fire came from almost under him, and the big dun lunged into the air, half twisting, and came down upon some object under its hoofs. The dun bounded on in great leaps, literally flying through the air, as Rathburn thrilled with the knowledge that the horse had knocked down the man who had sought to kill him. From above came sharp reports, and the blackness of the high canyon walls was streaked with spurts of flame. Leaden death hurled itself into the rock trail behind him. Then he was out of the canyon, riding like mad through the white desert night toward his goal--the Mallory ranch! * * * * * Laura Mallory stood on the porch of the little ranch house, staring out across the dimly lit spaces of desert. A worried look appeared in her eyes. The front door was open, and in the small sitting room her father was reading under a shaded lamp at the table. At times the worried look in the girl's eyes would change to one of wistfulness, and twice the tears welled. Presently she straightened and listened intently, looking into the south instead of northwest. Her ears, keen as are those of the desert born, had caught a sound--a succession of faint sounds--in the still night air. Gradually the sound became more and more distinct, and the worried expression of her face increased. She hurried into the sitting room. "Father, Fred Doane is coming out from town," she said breathlessly. "Do you suppose they've got him?" "Maybe so, girlie," said the old man. "It was a bold business, an' what could you expect?" "Oh, I don't know. I can't seem to understand. All this trouble is coming so suddenly. Father, are you sure you heard Roger refuse to aid that man Eagen in some shady scheme last night?" "Ab-so-lutely," declared Mallory. "I've been wondering, daughter, if he didn't turn Eagen down because he had this scheme of his own." The purr of a motor came to them from outside, and Laura, hastily wiping her eyes with a small handkerchief, went slowly out. "Laura!" cried Fred Doane, as he came up the steps, holding out his hands. "What--what is it, Fred?" she faltered. "Have they caught----" "Not yet," said Doane briskly, as Mallory appeared in the door. "An' they probably won't get him. He's clever, that fellow." The bank cashier indulged in a frown, but he was plainly nervous. "Then what news do you bring here?" Mallory demanded. "Did you come to tell us he'd got away clean?" "Why, not--not exactly," said Doane. "I meant to tell you that, of course, but I also want to have a little talk with Laura. Can I see you alone, Laura, for a few minutes?" "Oh, _that's_ it," snorted Mallory, as he stamped back into the house. "You have something to tell me you don't want father to hear?" asked the girl in a worried voice.