they went no farther. They must be fairly sure they are on the mountain. If one of them is a lady...."
"She's an Easterner," said Jackson. "Calls a mountain a 'mounting'. Like that Vermont chap down to Prieta. What do you aim to do?"
"We've got to send a horse in for Rand to meet the train tomorrow. Suppose you take it, Red. I'll take over your work."
"That suits me. I'd ruther put a crimp in Hollister's schemes than hold four aces in a thousand dollar jack-pot. Not to mention the wimmen. The West may be wild an' woolly yet in spots, but it's usually bin reckoned a safe place for a decent female, an' I aim to hold up my hand in that."
"Then that's settled. And you can see how they stand about Quong at the same time."
But Sheridan was not bothering very much about Quong. He was seeing more plainly the vision of the girl in the notch of the mountain, with the mauve mists trailing about her. It had been stamped upon his mental retina more clearly than he had fancied. He had dismissed it as a trick of the eye but now he seemed to see it plainly, a slim girl upon a big horse, the mane of the beast lifting in the wind.
Was the fact that they had camped on the shore of Lake in the Woods and she had come to the edge of the cliff that evening mere coincidence?
Sheridan had a theory that there was no such thing as coincidence, as generally interpreted. Such related happenings were, he thought, the fruit of seeds not cast at random. If they had not seen
