Ruth wrapped up the baby warmly and handed him to Falkner. The man broke trail to the point where the draw struck the road. He looked to the right, then to the left. Safety lay for him in the mountains; for her and Rowan, junior, at the Circle Diamond, which was three miles nearer than Yerby’s ranch. The way up the cañon would be harder to travel than the way down. There was a chance that they could not make it through the snow, even a probability. “Which way?” asked Ruth. He turned to the left toward the Circle Diamond. The heart of the girl leaped. The convict had put the good of the child before his own. The day had turned warm, so that before they had travelled half an hour the snow was beginning to get soft and slushy. The going was heavy. Ruth was not wearing her heavy, high-laced boots, but the shoes she was accustomed to use indoors. Soon her stockings were wringing wet and the bottoms of her skirts were soaked. It was mostly a downhill grade, but within the hour she was fagged. It cost an effort to drag her foot up for each step. She did not want to be a quitter, but at last she had to speak: “I can’t go any farther. Leave me here and send the boys to get me. Mrs. Stovall will look after the baby.” The outlaw stopped. There was grudging admiration in the glance he gave her. “You can make it. We’re through the worst part. Soon we’ll be in the foothills, and there the snow is real light.” After a moment he added: “We ain’t runnin’ for a train. Take your time.” He brushed the snow from a rock and told her with a wave of his hand to sit down. After a few minutes’ rest she rose and told him she was ready to try again. Falkner’s prediction of a lighter snowfall down in the foothills proved correct. They rounded a rocky point, which brought them within sight of the Circle Diamond. The smoke from the house rose straight up in the brilliant sunshine. It looked very near and close, but the deceptive air of the Rockies could no longer fool Ruth. They still had two miles to go. The descent to the valley was very rapid from here, and she could see that a scant two inches would measure the depth of the snow into which they were moving. The young woman sloshed along behind. She was very tired, and her shoulders sagged from exhaustion. But she set her teeth in a game resolve to buck up and get through somehow. One after another she tried the old devices for marking progress. She would pick a mark fifty yards ahead and vow to reach it, and then would select another goal, and after it was passed choose a third. One—two—three—four—five, she counted her steps to a hundred, began again and checked off a second century, and so kept on until she had added lap after lap. They came to the Circle Diamond line fence, crawled between the strands, and tramped across the back pasture toward the house.