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never thought of them being so far west； more than twenty miles from
Chevelon Canyon。 His roving eyes could not descry any herders or dogs。
But he knew there must be dogs close to that immense flock。 And；
whatever his cunning； he could not hope to elude the scent and sight
of shepherd dogs。 It would be best to go back the way he bad come；
wait for darkness； then cross the canyon and climb out； and work around
to his objective point。 Turning at once； he started to glide back。
But almost immediately he was brought stock…still and thrilling by
the sound of hoofs。
Horses were coming in the direction he wished to take。 They were close。
His swift conclusion was that the men who had pursued him up on the Rim
had worked down into the canyon。 One circling glance showed him that
he had no sure covert near at hand。 It would not do to risk their
passing him there。 The border of woodland was narrow and not dense
enough for close inspection。 He was forced to turn back up the canyon；
in the hope of soon finding a hiding place or a break in the wall where
be could climb up。
Hugging the base of the wall； he slipped on； passing the point where
he had espied the sheep； and gliding on until he was stopped by a bend
in the dense line of willows。 It sheered to the west there and ran
close to the high wall。 Jean kept on until he was stooping under a
curling border of willow thicket； with branches slim and yellow and
masses of green foliage that brushed against the wall。 Suddenly he
encountered an abrupt corner of rock。 He rounded it； to discover that
it ran at right angles with the one he had just passed。 Peering up
through the willows； he ascertained that there was a narrow crack in
the main wall of the canyon。 It had been concealed by willows low down
and leaning spruces above。 A wild； hidden retreat！ Along the base of
the wall there were tracks of small animals。 The place was odorous；
like all dense thickets； but it was not dry。 Water ran through there
somewhere。 Jean drew easier breath。 All sounds except the rustling of
birds or mice in the willows had ceased。 The brake was pervaded by a
dreamy emptiness。 Jean decided to steal on a little farther； then wait
till he felt he might safely dare go back。
The golden…green gloom suddenly brightened。 Light showed ahead； and
parting the willows； he looked out into a narrow； winding canyon；
with an open； grassy； willow…streaked lane in the center and on
each side a thin strip of woodland。
His surprise was short lived。 A crashing of horses back of him in the
willows gave him a shock。 He ran out along the base of the wall； back
of the trees。 Like the strip of woodland in the main canyon； this one
was scant and had but little underbrush。 There were young spruces
growing with thick branches clear to the grass； and under these he
could have concealed himself。 But； with a certainty of sheep dogs
in the vicinity； he would not think of hiding except as a last resource。
These horsemen； whoever they were； were as likely to be sheep herders
as not。 Jean slackened his pace to look back。 He could not see any
moving objects； but he still heard horses； though not so close now。
Ahead of him this narrow gorge opened out like the neck of a bottle。
He would run on to the head of it and find a place to climb to the top。
Hurried and anxious as Jean was； he yet received an impression of
singular； wild nature of this side gorge。 It was a hidden； pine…fringed
crack in the rock…ribbed and canyon…cut tableland。 Above him the sky
seemed a winding stream of blue。 The walls were red and bulged out in
spruce…greened shelves。 From wall to wall was scarcely a distance of a
hundred feet。 Jumbles of rock obstructed his close holding to the wall。
He had to walk at the edge of the timber。 As he progressed； the gorge
widened into wilder； ruggeder aspect。 Through the trees ahead he saw
where the wall circled to meet the cliff on the left； forming an oval
depression； the nature of which he could not ascertain。 But it appeared
to be a small opening surrounded by dense thickets and the overhanging
walls。 Anxiety augmented to alarm。 He might not be able to find a
place to scale those rough cliffs。 Breathing hard； Jean halted again。
The situation was growing critical again。 His physical condition was
worse。 Loss of sleep and rest； lack of food； the long pursuit of Queen；
the wound in his arm； and the desperate run for his lifethese had
weakened him to the extent that if he undertook any strenuous effort
he would fail。 His cunning weighed all chances。
The shade of wall and foliage above； and another jumble of ruined cliff；
hindered his survey of the ground ahead； and he almost stumbled upon a
cabin； hidden on three sides； with a small； bare clearing in front。
It was an old； ramshackle structure like others he had run across in
the canons。 Cautiously he approached and peeped around the corner。
At first swift glance it had all the appearance of long disuse。 But
Jean had no time for another look。 A clip…clop of trotting horses on
hard ground brought the same pell…mell rush of sensations that had
driven him to wild flight scarcely an hour past。 His body jerked with
its instinctive impulse； then quivered with his restraint。 To turn
back would be risky； to run ahead would be fatal； to hide was his one
hope。 No covert behind！ And the clip…clop of hoofs sounded closer。
One moment longer Jean held mastery over his instincts of
self…preservation。 To keep from running was almost impossible。
It was the sheer primitive animal sense to escape。 He drove it back
and glided along the front of the cabin。
Here he saw that the cabin adjoined another。 Reaching the door； he
was about to peep in when the thud of hoofs and voices close at hand
transfixed him with a grim certainty that he had not an instant to lose。
Through the thin； black…streaked line of trees he saw moving red objects。
Horses！ He must run。 Passing the door； his keen nose caught a musty；
woody odor and the tail of his eye saw bare dirt floor。 This cabin
was unused。 He halted…gave a quick look back。 And the first thing
his eye fell upon was a ladder； right inside the door； against the wall。
He looked up。 It led to a loft that； dark and gloomy； stretched halfway
across the cabin。 An irresistible impulse drove Jean。 Slipping inside；
he climbed up the ladder to the loft。 It was like night up there。 But
he crawled on the rough…hewn rafters and； turning with his head toward
the opening； he stretched out and lay still。
What seemed an interminable moment ended with a trample of hoofs outside
the cabin。 It ceased。 Jean's vibrating ears caught the jingle of spurs
and a thud of boots striking the ground。
〃Wal； sweetheart； heah we are home again；〃 drawled a slow； cool；
mocking Texas voice。
〃Home！ I wonder； Colterdid y'u ever have a homea mothera sister
much less a sweetheart？〃 was the reply； bitter and caustic。
Jean's palpitating； hot body suddenly stretched still and cold with
intensity of shock。 His very bones seemed to quiver and stiffen into ice。
During the instant of realization his heart stopped。 And a slow；
contracting pressure enveloped his breast and moved up to constrict
his throat。 That woman's voice belonged to Ellen Jorth。 The sound
of it had lingered in his dreams。 He had stumbled upon the rendezvous
of the Jorth faction。 Hard indeed had been the fates meted out to those
of the Isbels and Jorths who had passed to their deaths。 But； no ordeal；
not even Queen's； could compare with this desperate one Jean must endure。
He had loved Ellen Jorth； strangely； wonderfully； and he had scorned
repute to believe her good。 He had spared her father and her uncle。
He had weakened or lost the cause of the Isbels。 He loved her now；
desperately； deathlessly； knowing from her own lips that she was
worthlessloved her the more because he had felt her terrible shame。
And to himthe last of the Isbelshad come the cruelest of dooms
to be caught like a crippled rat in a trap； to be compelled to lie
helpless； wounded； without a gun； to listen； and perhaps to see Ellen
Jorth enact the very truth of her mocking insinuation。 His will；
his promise； his creed； his blood must hold him to the stem decree
that he should be the last man of the Jorth…Isbel war。 But could he
lie there to hearto seewhen he had a knife and an arm？
CHAPTER XIV
Then followed the leathery flop of saddles to the soft turf and the
stamp； of loosened horses。
Jean heard a noise at the cabin door； a rustle； and then a knock of
something hard against wood。 Silently he moved his head to look down
through a crack between the rafters。 He saw the glint of a rifle
leaning against the sill。 Then the doorstep was darkened。 Ellen Jorth
sat down with a long； tired sigh。 She took off her sombrero and the
light shone on the rippling； dark…brown hair； hanging in a tangled braid。
The curved nape of her neck showed a warm tint of golden tan。 She wore
a gray blouse； soiled and torn； that clung to her lissome shoulders。
〃Colter； what are y'u goin' to do？〃 she asked； suddenly。 Her voice
carried something Jean did not remember。 It thrilled