Minnie Pine could get from one place to another more quickly and with less noise than any one at Sky Line.  
When Rod Stone came in at dusk she came running to him in the shadows to whisper in his ear.
 
“The Sun Woman from the flats on Nameless,” she said, “has thrown their words back in the faces of the Master and the Boss—and they have given her to Sud to guard—in Rainbow’s Pot with Big Basford at the . It’s devil’s work.”
 
There was little or no expression on the half-breed’s face, but there was plenty of it in her low voice.
 
“Good God!” said the boy, “are you sure, Minnie?”
 
“I heard—and I saw,” she answered, “and my heart is heavy for the pretty one with the eagle’s eyes. She does not fear—but she does not know.”
 
Rod Stone put out an arm and hugged the girl gently.
 
“You’re a real woman, kid, if your skin is brown,” he said admiringly, “and after all, it’s heart that counts. Now tell me about this.”
 
They stood close together in the shadows of the fir beside the corral and the girl talked swiftly, recounting with almost flawless accuracy what had taken place in the Inner Room.
 
The boy was silent but his lips were tightly compressed and his blue eyes shone with .
 
“I came,” said Minnie , “to you, because you are the only man at Sky Line. The rest are . Josefa says you have the heart of a Pomo chief.”
 
Stone stood for a long time considering.
 
Then he drew a deep breath and flung up his head.
 
The motion was full of , as if something in him which had long bowed down sprang aloft with , like a young tree, to earth, released.
 
“You’re right,” he said, “it’s devil’s work and something must be done. I am the one to do it, too.”
 
He was silent for another space. Then he turned to the girl.
 
“Kid,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about you lately—about making a get-a-way down the Pipe some night and striking across the desert for Marston—we could find a parson there and drop over the Line into Mexico. Arnold hasn’t much on me—perhaps less than on anyone at Sky Line—and we could make a new start——”
 
There was the soft sound of an indrawn breath and Minnie Pine’s hand went to her shapely throat.
 
Stone went on.
 
“If I do this—if I hit down for Cordova tonight—you know, of course, that it is very likely to be the end of me one way or another, in the general stir-up that will follow. I want you to know any way before I start—that I’d like that new beginning—with you.”
 
For a long moment there was no sound save the voices of the conifers talking mysteriously with the winds of night.
 
Then the Pomo girl put her hands on the white man’s shoulders.
 
“A chief,” she said, “does what must be done—without fear—and a chief’s woman follows him—even to death. Saddle two horses.”
 
At Sheriff Price Selwood’s an anxious circle watched the still form on the bed. The doctor from Bement had not left his station for seven hours. Outside cowboys, all armed, walked here and there, and on the deep sat the , Smith, smoking innumerable cigarettes and waiting on destiny.
 
Though he was filled with inner excitement his dark face gave no sign. He sat back against the wall, his booted feet on the round of his chair, his hat pulled low over his eyes, and his keen vision the stretch of meadow that lay before the ranch house.
 
“It may be an hour—it may be ten—but something is going to happen soon,” the doctor had said at dusk, “he will either rally or sink. If he speaks he will be rational, I think.”
 
And on that chance the stranger waited to ask one question, namely: “What is the secret of Sky Line? Where is the other end of the passage?”
 
For all the hours that Price Selwood had lain unconscious fourteen men under Bossick had camped in a under the skirts of Mystery’s western end, ready to answer Fair’s summons.
 
Diamond waited in Selwood’s stable, saddled and fit, and everything waited on the sheriff himself who had done such work “to get the goods” on Sky Line.
 
A late round moon was rising above the distant rimrock of Rainbow Cliff, a great golden disc that promised full light, and all the little winds, born in the cañons of the Deep Heart hills, frolicked like elves among the trees.
 
Fair’s thoughts were of the girl on Nameless—of her long blue eyes with their steady light, of her smiling lips and the golden crown of her braided hair.
 
He drifted away, as lovers have done since time was, and it was the low-toned voice of the doctor which recalled him.
 
“Mr. Smith,” it said without a change of inflection, “come in carefully.”
 
He rose and, tossing away his cigarette, stepped softly across the sill.
 
In the faint light of the oil lamp on a stand Sheriff Selwood looked up into the face of his wife, bending above him.
 
“Sally,” he said weakly.
 
Then he turned his head and looked slowly around at the others.
 
“Hello, Doc,” he whispered, then—“they didn’t get me—after all! Smith—Smith——” a sudden light leaped into the dazed eyes, “I saw—them drive Bossick’s—Bossick’s into the face of—Rainbow Cliff a mile west—of Sky Line——”
 
“That’s plenty,” said Fair quickly, “you mustn’t talk, Selwood—mind the doctor—I’m leaving now.”
 
And with a gentle touch on the sick man’s shoulder he was gone.
 
He ran to the stable and got Diamond.
 
Five of Selwood’s riders were throwing saddles on horses.
 
In less time than seemed possible the six men were ridin............