“Yes, there is another trail farther up the creek, but, to reach it we will have to ride between these high banks for about a mile. At this time of the year it is rather a risky thing to do, for if there should be a cloudburst in the mountains, we would find ourselves in a raging torrent, but since brother assured us that it is not going to rain, suppose we take the chance.” Margaret agreed and silently they rode along the creek bottom. On either side of them the banks rose sheer and high. Virginia felt strangely troubled. She almost wished they had not taken the chance. They were within sight of the low banks, when Virginia suddenly drew rein and listened intently. Somewhere, up in the mountains ahead of them, she heard a sullen, roaring noise. What could it be? There was no wind and the sky was clear. Intuitively, however, the western girl knew that something was wrong. “Megsy,” she called, “ride as fast as you can.” The creek bottom was covered with stones of all sizes and the eastern girl, frightened by Virginia’s command, urged her horse to greater speed. The dull roaring in the mountains grew louder and louder. Then, there was a report like a crash of thunder. Virginia was only two lengths from the low bank when a rush of water hurled past them. It had risen to the stirrups when Comrade with a frightened snort, started to climb the low bank. Virginia looked back, and to her dismay she saw that Star had reared and that Margaret was about to be thrown into the swirling ever-deepening torrent. Seizing Margaret’s bridle, she called: “Let go of the rein, Megsy, and cling to Star’s neck. It’s your only chance.” She again scrambled up the low bank with Star in tow and not a minute too soon, for following the last booming noise in the mountains, a mad rushing torrent was hurled down the creek, overflowing the low bank. “That was a narrow escape,” Virginia had just said when Mr. and Mrs. Wells and their young son, Davie, rushed out of the station house to see what had happened. “It’s the new Pine Canyon reservoir that’s burst!” the excited man exclaimed, then he added, “Miss Virginia, you gals wasn’t a ridin’ along the creek bottom, was ye?” When Virg replied in the affirmative, he ejaculated, “Wall, I’ll be jigger-switched. You sure had a narrow call, but if its mail as yer after there’s a stack of it for ye.” Kind Mrs. Wells led the way indoors and gave each of the girls a cup of steaming coffee. As soon as the flood had passed, Malcolm and Slim, with anxious faces, appeared, and how relieved they were to find that the girls were safe. The cow-boy shouldered the bulging mail bag and they returned home by another trail. Uncle Tex opened the ranch house door to admit them, and Virg felt his hand tremble in her clasp. “Miss Virginia, dearie,” he said in a quivering voice, “don’t yo’ be doin’ reckless things any more. If yo’r wantin’ the mail, send yo’ old Uncle Tex. He’d ruther be swept away in a torrent than be livin’ without ye.”