“So far, then,” resumed Dale, with a heavy breath of relief. “No wonder you're upset. I've a blunt way of talkin'.... Now we've thirty miles to ride on this Snowdrop road before we can turn off. To-day sometime the rest of the boys--Roy, John, an' Hal--were to leave Show Down, which's a town farther on from Snowdrop. They have my horses an' packs besides their own. Somewhere on the road we'll meet them--to-night, maybe--or tomorrow. I hope not to-night, because that 'd mean Anson's gang was ridin' in to Magdalena.” Helen wrung her hands helplessly. “Oh, have I no courage?” she whispered. “Nell, I'm as scared as you are,” said Bo, consolingly, embracing her sister. “I reckon that's natural,” said Dale, as if excusing them. “But, scared or not, you both brace up. It's a bad job. But I've done my best. An' you'll be safer with me an' the Beeman boys than you'd be in Magdalena, or anywhere else, except your uncle's.” “Mr.--Mr. Dale,” faltered Helen, with her tears falling, “don't think me a coward--or--or ungrateful. I'm neither. It's only I'm so--so shocked. After all we hoped and expected--this--this--is such a--a terrible surprise.” “Never mind, Nell dear. Let's take what comes,” murmured Bo. “That's the talk,” said Dale. “You see, I've come right out with the worst. Maybe we'll get through easy. When we meet the boys we'll take to the horses an' the trails. Can you ride?” “Bo has been used to horses all her life and I ride fairly well,” responded Helen. The idea of riding quickened her spirit. “Good! We may have some hard ridin' before I get you up to Pine. Hello! What's that?” Above the creaking, rattling, rolling roar of the stage Helen heard a rapid beat of hoofs. A horse flashed by, galloping hard. Dale opened the door and peered out. The stage rolled to a halt. He stepped down and gazed ahead. “Joe, who was that?” he queried. “Nary me. An' Bill didn't know him, either,” replied Joe. “I seen him 'way back. He was ridin' some. An' he slowed up goin' past us. Now he's runnin' again.” Dale shook his head as if he did not like the circumstances. “Milt, he'll never get by Roy on this road,” said Joe. “Maybe he'll get by before Roy strikes in on the road.” “It ain't likely.” Helen could not restrain her fears. “Mr. Dale, you think he was a messenger--going ahead to post that--that Anson gang?” “He might be,” replied Dale, simply. Then the young man called Joe leaned out from the seat above and called: “Miss Helen, don't you worry. Thet fellar is more liable to stop lead than anythin' else.”