"You've got to get out of this, ma'am," Beck cried. "There'll be hell to pay before mornin'. There's nothing they won't do now." "Tom! You came!" Her eyes were blinded by tears as she turned her face to him, trying to put into words the forgiveness which she deemed unnecessary and which she knew was the one essential to Tom Beck, which she knew would be almost impossible to convey convincingly. But through the tears she saw the flash of a gun before them and an answering flash. A lengthy flicker of lightning showed two figures. One, Dick Hilton, horse drawn back on his hocks, revolver lifted. They saw him shoot again and they saw that other figure, Baldy Bowen, who was there to block the trail, crumple in his saddle and sag forward, struggle heavily to regain his position and then, as his frightened horse moved quickly, plunge in an ungainly mass to the ground. Beck raised his gun as Hilton's horse leaped for the trail. He shot but the instant of light had passed, making the world darker by contrast. They saw fire shoot from scrambling hoofs. The burst of rain had ceased, the interval of fury broken; the storm still swirled, roaring, above them, but it was dry and black, threatening, holding in reserve its strength.... The sound of another horse, cutting in before them, running frantically, and Beck's gun hand went up only to poise arrested as a voice came to them with the singing of a rope end that flayed the animal's flanks. "Go; go! Take me after him!" It was Bobby Cole's cry. She had seen. She was riding on the trail of the man who would have been her betrayer. They dismounted hastily and stooped over the figure that lay quiet on the rocks. Jane stilled her sobbing as Beck rolled the body over and felt and listened. "Dead," he said huskily. "Dead!" echoed Jane. "Dick killed him! Oh ... beastly!" Fresh firing behind them. The shout of a man and an answer. More shots, coming closer. "You've got to get out," Beck said lowly, lifting her from her knees beside the dead rider. "There'll be hell here to-night and it's no place for you. You bring the law!" "I feel as though I should stay. There'll be others killed and it's my fight!" Hers was a cry of anguish, but he replied: "You'll save lives by bringin' help. And hurry, ma'am, hurry!" His only thought was to get her to safety. A rifle crashed twice not a hundred yards from them and they heard a running horse grunt as spurs raked his sides. "Get up and get out!" he cried hoarsely, fearful that she might insist on lingering in this place which, this night, was well named Devil's Hole. "There's only one of 'em ahead of you. He's bound only to make his get-away.... An' the Catamount, she'll clear your way if he does turn back!" He lifted her bodily to her horse. "It seems my place to stay!" she cried as shots peppered the storm. "To stay with you, Tom!" "It's your place to get out! Ride!"