"You kin ride. You kin keep your seat ’bout as good as Mr. Stratton. Dunno but what I’d resk you on that ther spirit horse o’ his. I ’low you heard ’bout ther way he give them Gov’ment men ther slip?" "Yes," answered Forrest, "yes. I learned through Mr. Bates. I happened to meet him the day I left Seattle. It seems Stratton used this shooting box out here to cache his dope in. He was bringing it through, with Smith’s help, in small lots from Victoria. And the officers cut him off going east towards the Pass. They took his pack-horse, and he, himself, barely escaped on that chestnut." Lem laughed, a noiseless contortion. "Them dep’ties was mighty puzzled ’bout jes’ ther way he give ’em ther slip. Not one in ther hull bunch ever s’picioned that ther chestnut jes’ natu’lly lifted his four feet off n ther face of ther earth; yes, sir, and flew clean over ther heads ’mongst ther trees, an’ struck back to ther Nisqually, while they was a chasin’ on after ther rest o’ ther outfit." Lem caught a quick breath; his ferret eyes fell before his listener’s level look, and he hastened to add, "But that ther pack-horse was John Phiander’s Baldy,—he got er good price for him,—an’ when the Gov’ment men found him he was up to his old tricks, a rollin’ in er wide piece o’ ther trail, tryin’ ter get rid o’ his load. Oh, gee, I thort I’d bust; you’d orter o’ seen him. Them little cans, what you call dope, worked loose an’ scattered all over creation. But Baldy’d never o’ hed that chanct, an’ they’d never o’ sighted their man, ef he hedn’t stopped ter kidnap ther schoolmarm." "What?" Lem started and his sidelong glance moved from the young man’s challenging eyes to his strong whip hand. "You ain’t heard ’bout that, hev you? I was chasin’ round after Shorts an’ that ther red heifer, an’ I kem ercross ’em up ther branch. Baldy was standin’ quiet, an’ ther chestnut was stampin’ an’ rubbin’ hisself like all pursest on er alder. Colonel he was snatchin’ er mouthful o’ grass, an’ ther schoolmarm was sittin’ in ther saddle ’ith her back to me. I thort she was jes’ listenin’, an’ never sensed things tell I sneaked up close behind an ole cedar snag an’ see her hands was tied ’ith er big silk hankerchief, what he wears roun’ his neck. He was passin’ er hitchin’ strap ’cross her lap an’ makin’ it fast to ther cinch, an’ he says mighty softlike, ’You will hate me at first fur this—mebbe a good spell—but in the end you air goin’ ter love me, an’ marry me.’" Forrest frowned darkly at the water trough. He reached and swept the brimming surface with a sharp cut of his whip. Lem’s lips twitched with keen appreciation. "But," he went on slowly, "she jes’ looked at him ’ith her chin up in ther air, an’ says, ’You ruffi’n—you outlaw. I kin die jes’ once an’ it’s goin’ ter kem ter that before I ever marry you.’"