"Yes," said the Sheriff, "we made a mistake in not shooting him down like a dog at first sight, but he'll never leave those hills alive. In an hour the whole town will be after him."
With that the Sheriff drove the spurs into his horse and galloped away after his companions.
The dark-eyed woman reined her horse to a stop and stood looking after the deputies. It was some moments before she could realize the awfulness of what she had heard. "In an hour the whole town will be after him,"— she repeated what the Sheriff had said. The guards at the prison, those who could be spared—even her own father—would be upon his trail to kill him. It must not be. With a prayer upon her lips the bewildered woman turned her horse and dashed toward the hills.
From the valley the gulch showed plainly, but when she found herself among the rocks she became confused. The heavy growth of pinon and cedar obscured her view, and for nearly an hour she galloped up and down along the foot hills, unable to find the correct pass. Her horse
