Brighter and brighter grew the light. He mounted the last broken
edge of rim to have the sun-fired, purple sage-slope burst upon
him as a glory. Bess panted up to his side, tugging on the halter
of her burro.
"We're up!" he cried, joyously. "There's not a dot on the sage
We're safe. We'll not be seen! Oh, Bess--"
Ring growled and sniffed the keen air and bristled. Venters
clutched at his rifle. Whitie sometimes made a mistake, but Ring
never. The dull thud of hoofs almost deprived Venters of power to
turn and see from where disaster threatened. He felt his eyes
dilate as he stared at Lassiter leading Black Star and Night out
of the sage, with Jane Withersteen, in rider's costume, close
beside them.
For an instant Venters felt himself whirl dizzily in the center
of vast circles of sage. He recovered partially, enough to see
Lassiter standing with a glad smile and Jane riveted in
astonishment.
"Why, Bern!" she exclaimed. "How good it is to see you! We're
riding away, you see. The storm burst--and I'm a ruined
woman!...I thought you were alone."
Venters, unable to speak for consternation, and bewildered out of
all sense of what he ought or ought not to do, simply stared at
Jane.
"Son, where are you bound for?" asked Lassiter.
"Not safe--where I was. I'm--we're going out of Utah--back East,"
he found tongue to say.
"I reckon this meetin's the luckiest thing that ever happened to
you an' to me--an' to Jane--an' to Bess," said Lassiter, coolly.
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