on the far side of the road. Or he might have grasped the bolting horse’s bridle, causing him to slow down gradually.

But Jess was nothing if not dramatic. He spurred the chestnut forward until he was racing neck-and-neck with Dynamite. He leaned over and grasped Mariel about the waist. He threw his weight back and dragged her from the saddle, meanwhile reining in the chestnut, which came jerkily to a halt.

Jess lowered the girl to the ground. He leaped from the saddle, and an instant later was supporting her with an arm about her waist.

For a moment Mariel clung to him, gasping. Slowly the color returned to her face. Presently she moved away from him uncertainly. He made as if to follow her, but was fended off by an outstretched arm.

“Oh!” she panted, speaking for the first time. “That was splendid of you, Mr. Bledsoe! Why, I might have been killed!”

“It was nothing,” Jess assured her with every appearance of modesty. “I’m glad I could be of service—Mariel.”

It was the first time he had addressed her by her first name. She affected to take no notice of it.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” she protested. “If it hadn’t been for—”

“Forget it!” Jess interrupted magnanimously. “If you feel faint—” He stepped forward again.

“Oh, I’m all right now,” she assured him with a little laugh. “Look at Dynamite. He’s cropping the grass as if he’d never in the world thought of running away.”

Jess knew better than to attempt to press his advantage too far. He stalked forward with jingling spurs and grasped the bridle of Dynamite, who had come to a halt a score of yards away.

“I—I guess we’d better start back. It’s starting to rain,” she faltered, plainly a bit afraid of her mount, who eyed her innocently when Jess led him back.

“Don’t let him see you’re scared of him,” Jess advised, cupping his hands to help her into the saddle. “Just keep that slicker from flapping, and he wont try it again.”

The pounding of hoofs became audible down the road. Both turned, and presently a horseman rounded a turn in the road at a full gallop. He drew in as he came abreast them. It was Spider Ponsonby, a lanky member of the Footstool outfit.

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