been troubled for him before she received the note from Speed.
“It worried me all the time, and it troubled dad, too. I could see that. We had hardly left you before I knew we had done wrong. Dad did it for me, of course; but he felt mighty bad about it. Somehow, I couldn’t think of anything but you there, with all those men shooting at you. Suppose you had waited too long before surrendering! Suppose you had been killed for us!” She looked at him, and felt a shiver run over her in the warm sunlight. “Night before last I was worn out. I slept some, but I kept dreaming they were killing you. Oh, you don’t know how glad I was to get word from Speed that you were alive.” Her soft voice had the gift of expressing feeling, and it was resonant with it now.
“I’m glad you were glad,” he said quietly.
Across Dead Cow Creek they rode, following the stream up French Cañon to what was known as the Narrows. Here the great rock walls, nearly two thousand feet high, came so close together as to leave barely room for a footpath beside the creek which boiled down over great bowlders. Unexpectedly, there opened in the wall a rock fissure, and through this Arlie guided her horse.
The Texan wondered where she could be taking him, for the fissure terminated in a great rock slide some two hundred yards ahead of them. Before reaching this she turned sharply to the left, and began winding in and out among the big bowlders which had fallen from the summit far above.
Presently Fraser observed with astonishment that they were following a path that crept up the very face of the bluff. Up—up—up they went until they reached a rift in the wall, and into this the trail went precipitously. Stones clattered down from the hoofs of the horses as they clambered up like mountain goats. Once the Texan had to throw himself to the ground to keep Teddy from falling backward.
Arlie, working her pony forward with voice and body and knees, so that from her seat in the saddle she seemed literally to lift him up, reached the summit and looked back.
“All right back there?” she asked quietly.
“All right,” came the cheerful answer. “Teddy isn’t used to climbing up a wall, but he’ll make it or know why.”
A minute later, man and horse were beside her.
“Good for Teddy,” she said, fondling his nose.
“Look out! He doesn’t like strangers to handle him.”
“We’re not strangers. We’re tillicums. Aren’t we, Teddy?”
Teddy said “Yes” after the manner of a horse, as plain as words could say it.
From their feet the trail dropped again to another gorge, beyond which the ranger could make out a stretch of valley through which ran the gleam of a silvery thread.
“We’re going down now into Mantrap Gulch. The patch of green you see beyond is Lost Valley,” she told him.
“Lost Valley,” he repeated, in amazement. “Are we going to Lost Valley?”
“You’ve named our destination.”
“But—you don’t live in Lost Valley.”
“Don’t I?”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” she answered, amused at his consternation, if it were that.
“I wish I had known,” he said, as if to himself.
“You know now. Isn’t that soon enough? Are you afraid of the place, because people make a mystery of it?” she demanded impatiently.
“No. It isn’t that.” He looked across at the valley again, and asked abruptly: “Is this the only way in?”
“No. There is another, but this is the quickest.”
“Is the other as difficult as this?”
“In a way, yes. It is very much more round-about. It isn’t known much by the public. Not many outsiders have business in the valley.”
She volunteered no explanation in detail, and the man beside her said, with a grim laugh:
“There isn’t any general admission to the public this way, is there?”
“No. Oh, folks can come if they want to.”
He looked full in her face, and said significantly: “I thought the way to Lost Valley was a sort of a secret—one that those who know are not expected to tell.”
“Oh, that’s just talk. Not many come in but our friends. We’ve had to be careful lately. But you can’t call a secret what a thousand folks know.”
It was like a blow in the face to him. Not many but their friends! And she was taking him in confidently because he was her friend. What sort of a friend was he? he asked himself. He could not perform the task to which he was pledged without striking home at her. If he succeeded in ferreting out the Squaw Creek raiders he must send to the penitentiary, perhaps to death, her neighbors, and possibly her relatives. She had told him her father was not implicated, but a daughter’s faith in her parent was not convincing proof of his innocence. If not her father, a brother might be involved. And she was innocently making it easy for him to meet on a friendly footing these hospitable, unsuspecting savages, who had shed human blood because of the unleashed passions in them!
In that moment, while he looked away toward Lost Valley, he sickened of the task that lay before him. What would she think of him if she knew?
Arlie, too, had been looking down the gulch toward the valley. Now her gaze came slowly round to him and caught the expression of his face.
“What’s the matter?” she cried.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. An old heart pain that caught me suddenly.”
“I’m sorry. We’ll soon be home now. We’ll travel slowly.”
Her voice was tender with sympathy; so, too, were her eyes when he met them.
He looked away again and groaned in his heart.
Chapter IV.
The Warning of Mantrap Gulch
They followed the trail down into the cañon. As the ponies slowly picked their footing on the steep narrow path, he asked:
“Why do they call it Mantrap Gulch?”
“It got its name before my time in the days when outlaws hid here. A hunted man came to Lost Cañon, a murderer wanted by the law for more crimes than one. He was well treated by the settlers. They gave him shelter and work. He was safe, and he knew it. But he tried to make his peace with the law outside by breaking the law of the valley. He knew that two men were lying hid in a pocket gulch, opening from the valley—men who were wanted for train robbery. He wrote to the company offering to betray these men if they would pay him the reward and see that he was not punished for his crimes.
“It seems he was suspected. His letter was opened, and the exits from the valley were both guarded. Knowing he was discovered, he tried to slip out by the river way. He failed, sneaked through the settlement at night, and slipped into the cañon here. At this end of it he found armed men on guard. He ran back and found the entrance closed. He was in a trap. He tried to climb one of the walls. Do you see that point where the rock juts out?”
“About five hundred feet up? Yes.”
“He managed to climb that high. Nobody ever knows how he did it, but when morning broke there he was, like a fly on a wall. His hunters came and saw him. I suppose he could hear them laughing as their voices came echoing up to him. They shot above him, below him, on either side of him. He knew they were playing with him, and that they would finish him when they got ready. He must have been half crazy with fear. Anyhow, he lost his hold and fell. He was dead