“You lay still now. Reckon Shady's hoss stopped out heah a ways. An' I'll see.” “Jim--I 'ain't heerd--thet scream fer--a little.” “Shore it's gone.... Reckon now thet was a cougar.” “I knowed it!” Wilson stalked away into the darkness. That inky wall did not seem so impenetrable and black after he had gotten out of the circle of light. He proceeded carefully and did not make any missteps. He groped from tree to tree toward the cliff and presently brought up against a huge flat rock as high as his head. Here the darkness was blackest, yet he was able to see a light form on the rock. “Miss, are you there--all right?” he called, softly. “Yes, but I'm scared to death,” she whispered in reply. “Shore it wound up sudden. Come now. I reckon your trouble's over.” He helped her off the rock, and, finding her unsteady on her feet, he supported her with one arm and held the other out in front of him to feel for objects. Foot by foot they worked out from under the dense shadow of the cliff, following the course of the little brook. It babbled and gurgled, and almost drowned the low whistle Wilson sent out. The girl dragged heavily upon him now, evidently weakening. At length he reached the little open patch at the head of the ravine. Halting here, he whistled. An answer came from somewhere behind him and to the right. Wilson waited, with the girl hanging on his arm. “Dale's heah,” he said. “An' don't you keel over now--after all the nerve you hed.” A swishing of brush, a step, a soft, padded footfall; a looming, dark figure, and a long, low gray shape, stealthily moving--it was the last of these that made Wilson jump. “Wilson!” came Dale's subdued voice. “Heah. I've got her, Dale. Safe an sound,” replied Wilson, stepping toward the tall form. And he put the drooping girl into Dale's arms. “Bo! Bo! You're all right?” Dale's deep voice was tremulous. She roused up to seize him and to utter little cries of joy “Oh, Dale!... Oh, thank Heaven! I'm ready to drop now.... Hasn't it been a night--an adventure?... I'm well--safe--sound.... Dale, we owe it to this Jim Wilson.” “Bo, I--we'll all thank him--all our lives,” replied Dale. “Wilson, you're a man!... If you'll shake that gang--” “Dale, shore there ain't much of a gang left, onless you let Burt git away,” replied Wilson. “I didn't kill him--or hurt him. But I scared him so I'll bet he's runnin' yet.... Wilson, did all the shootin' mean a fight?” “Tolerable.” “Oh, Dale, it was terrible! I saw it all. I--” “Wal, Miss, you can tell him after I go.... I'm wishin' you good luck.” His voice was a cool, easy drawl, slightly tremulous. The girl's face flashed white in the gloom. She pressed against the outlaw--wrung his hands. “Heaven help you, Jim Wilson! You ARE from Texas!... I'll remember you--pray for you all my life!” Wilson moved away, out toward the pale glow of light under the black pines. CHAPTER XXIV