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as he moved Cordts swayed； his feet left the ledge； he hung； upheld only by
the tottering comrade。
What a harsh and terrible cry from Hutchinson！ He made one last convulsive
effort and it doomed him。 Slowly he lost his balance。 Cordts's dark； evil；
haunting face swung round。 Both men became lax and plunged； and separated。 The
dust rose from the rough steps。 Then the dark forms shot downCordts falling
sheer and straight； Hutchinson headlong； with waving armsdown and down；
vanishing in the depths。 No sound came up。 A little column of yellow dust
curled from the fatal ledge and； catching the wind above； streamed away into
the drifting clouds of smoke。
CHAPTER XX
A darkness； like the streaming clouds overhead； seemed to blot out Slone's
sight； and then passed away； leaving it clearer。
Lucy was bending over him； binding a scarf round his shoulder and under his
arm。 〃Lin！ It's nothing！〃 she was saying； earnestly。 〃Never touched a bone！〃
Slone sat up。 The smoke was clearing away。 Little curves of burning grass were
working down along the rim。 He put out a hand to grasp Lucy； remembering in a
flash。 He pointed to the ledge across the chasm。
〃They'regone！〃 cried Lucy； with a strange and deep note in her voice。 She
shook violently。 But she did not look away from Slone。
〃Wildfire！ The King！〃 he added； hoarsely。
〃Both where they dropped。 Oh； I'm afraid toto look。 。 。 。 And； Lin； I saw
Sarch； Two Face； and Ben and Plume go down there。〃
She had her back to the chasm where the trail led down； and she pointed
without looking。
Slone got up； a little unsteady on his feet and conscious of a dull pain。
〃Sarch will go straight home； and the others will follow him；〃 said Lucy。
〃They got away here where Joel came up the trail。 The fire chased them out of
the woods。 Sarch will go home。 And that'll fetch the riders。〃
〃We won't need them if only Wildfire and the King〃 Slone broke off and
grimly； with a catch in his breath； turned to the horses。
How strange that Slone should run toward the King while Lucy ran to Wildfire！
Sage King was a beaten； broken horse； but he would live to run another race。
Lucy was kneeling beside Wildfire； sobbing and crying： 〃Wildfire！ Wildfire！〃
All of Wildfire was white except where he was red； and that red was not now
his glossy； flaming skin。 A terrible muscular convulsion as of internal
collapse grew slower and slower。 Yet choked； blinded； dying； killed on his
feet； Wildfire heard Lucy's voice。
〃Oh； Lin！ Oh； Lin！〃 moaned Lucy。
While they knelt there the violent convulsions changed to slow heaves。
〃He run the King downcarryin' weightwith a long lead to overcome！〃 Slone
muttered； and he put a shaking hand on the horse's wet neck。
〃Oh； he beat the King！〃 cried Lucy。 〃But you mustn'tyou CAN'T tell Dad！〃
〃What CAN we tell him？〃
〃Oh； I know。 Old Creech told me what to say！〃
A change； both of body and spirit； seemed to pass over the great stallion。
〃WILDFIRE！ WILDFIRE！〃
Again the rider called to his horse； with a low and piercing cry。 But Wildfire
did not hear。
The morning sun glanced brightly over the rippling sage which rolled away from
the Ford like a gray sea。
Bostil sat on his porch； a stricken man。 He faced the blue haze of the north；
where days before all that he had loved had vanished。 Every day； from sunrise
till sunset； he had been there； waiting and watching。 His riders were grouped
near him； silent； awed by his agony； awaiting orders that never came。
From behind a ridge puffed up a thin cloud of dust。 Bostil saw it and gave a
start。 Above the sage appeared a bobbing； black object the head of a horse。
Then the big black body followed。
〃Sarch！〃 exclaimed Bostil。
With spurs clinking the riders ran and trooped behind him。
〃More hosses back；〃 said Holley； quietly。
〃Thar's Plume！〃 exclaimed Farlane。
〃An' Two Face！〃 added Van。
〃Dusty Ben！〃 said another。
〃RIDERLESS！〃 finished Bostil。
Then all were intensely quiet； watching the racers come trotting in single
file down the ridge。 Sarchedon's shrill neigh； like a whistle…blast； pealed in
from the sage。 From； fields and corrals clamored the answer attended by the
clattering of hundreds of hoofs。
Sarchedon and his followers broke from trot to cantercanter to gallopand
soon were cracking their hard hoofs on the stony court。 Like a swarm of bees
the riders swooped down upon the racers； caught them； and led them up to
Bostil。
On Sarchedon's neck showed a dry； dust…caked stain of reddish tinge。 Holley；
the old hawk…eyed rider； had precedence in the examination。
〃Wal； thet's a bullet…mark； plain as day；〃 said Holley。
〃Who shot him？〃 demanded Bostil。
Holley shook his gray head。
〃He smells of smoke；〃 put in Farlane； who had knelt at the black's legs。 〃He's
been runnin' fire。 See thet！ Fetlocks all singed！〃
All the riders looked； and then with grave； questioning eyes at one another。
〃Reckon thar's been hell！〃 muttered Holley； darkly。
Some of the riders led the horses away toward the corrals。 Bostil wheeled to
face the north again。 His brow was lowering； his cheek was pale and sunken；
his jaw was set。
The riders came and went； but Bostil kept his vigil。 The hours passed。
Afternoon came and wore on。 The sun lost its brightness and burned red。
Again dust…clouds； now like reddened smoke； puffed over the ridge。 A horse
carrying a dark； thick figure appeared above the sage。
Bostil leaped up。 〃Is thet a gray hossor amI blind？〃 he called；
unsteadily。
The riders dared not answer。 They must be sure。 They gazed through narrow
slits of eyelids； and the silence grew intense。
Holley shaded the hawk eyes with his hand。 〃Gray he isBostilgray as the
sage。 。 。 。 AN' SO HELP ME GOD IF HE AIN'T THE KING！〃
〃Yes； it's the King！〃 cried the riders； excitedly。 〃Sure！ I reckon！ No mistake
about thet！ It's the King！〃
Bostil shook his huge frame； and he rubbed his eyes as if they had become dim；
and he stared again。
〃Who's thet up on him？〃
〃Slone。 I never seen his like on a hoss；〃 replied Holley。
〃An' what'she packin'？〃 queried Bostil； huskily。
Plain to all keen eyes was the glint of Lucy Bostil's golden hair。 But only
Holley had courage to speak。
〃It's Lucy！ I seen thet long ago。〃
A strange； fleeting light of joy died out of Bostil's face。 The change once
more silenced his riders。 They watched the King trotting in from the sage。 His
head drooped。 He seemed grayer than ever and he limped。 But he was Sage King；
splendid as of old； all the more gladdening to the riders' eyes because he had
been lost。 He came on； quickening a little to the clamoring welcome from the
corrals。
Holley put out a swift hand。 〃Bostilthe girl's aliveshe's smilin'！〃 he
called； and the cool voice was strangely different。
The riders waited for Bostil。 Slone rode into the courtyard。 He was white and
weary； reeling in the saddle。 A bloody scarf was bound round his shoulder。 He
held Lucy in his arms。 She had on his coat。 A wan smile lighted her haggard
face。
Bostil； cursing deep； like muttering thunder； strode out。 〃Lucy！ You ain't bad
hurt？〃 he implored； in a voice no one had ever heard before。
〃I'mall rightDad；〃 she said； and slipped down into his arms。
He kissed the pale face and held her up like a child； and then； carrying her
to the door of the house； he roared for Aunt Jane。
When he reappeared the crowd of riders scattered from around Slone。 But it
seemed that Bostil saw only the King。 The horse was caked with dusty lather；
scratched and disheveled； weary and broken； yet he was still beautiful。 He
raised his drooping head and reached for his master with a look as soft and
dark and eloquent as a woman's。
No rider there but felt Bostil's passion of doubt and hope。 Had the King been
beaten？ Bostil's glory and pride were battling with love。 Mighty as that was；
it did not at once overcome his fear of defeat。
Slowly the gaze of Bostil moved away from Sage King and roved out to the sage
and back； as if he expected to see another horse。 But no other horse was in
sight。 At last his hard eyes rested upon the white…faced Slone。
〃Been somehard ridin'？〃 he queried； haltingly。 All there knew that had not
been the question upon his lips。
〃Pretty hardyes；〃 replied Slone。 He was weary； yet tight…lipped； intense。
〃Nowthem Creeches？〃 slowly continued Bostil。
〃Dead。〃
A murmur ran through the listening riders； and they drew closer。
〃Both of them？〃
〃Yes。 Joel killed his father； fightin' to get Lucy。 。 。 。 An' I ranWildfire
over Joelsmashed him！〃
〃Wal； I'm sorry for the old man；〃 replied Bostil； gruffly。 〃I meant to make up
to him。 。 。 。 But thet fool boy！ 。 。 。 An' Sloneyou're all bloody。〃
He stepped forward and pulled the scarf aside。 He was curious and kindly； as
if it was beyond him to be otherwise。 Yet that dark cold something； almost
sullen clung round him。
〃Been bored； eh？ Wal； it ain't low； an' thet's good。 Who shot you？〃
〃Cordts。〃
〃CORDTS！〃 Bostil leaned forward in sudden； fierce eagerness。
〃Yes； Cordts。 。 。 。 His outfit run across Creech's trail an' we bunched。 I
can't tell now。 。 。 。 But we hadhell！ An' Cordts is deadso's Hutchan'
that other pard of his。