She dropped the saddle. One hand flew out in the darkness and touched the rung of a rough wall ladder shooting up to the hayloft above. Hardly conscious of her movements, she clambered swiftly hand over hand up to the black vastness and let herself drop panting on the spicy hay.
For a while Hilma gave herself to a delicious lassitude,—weakness coming in the train of long nerve strain. Then, as one by one the hay vents into the stalls below glowed golden with the passing of a lantern beneath, curiosity battled with her fear. Through a square in the floor not many feet distant the light shone steadily, indicating that the lantern had come to a stop in the stall below. The girl inched her way with painful caution to the edge of the hole and dared look over.
She saw below her a broad-brimmed hat which almost hid the span of a man's shoulders beneath. Hands seemingly detached busied themselves with cinch and bridle. For a minute the hat laid itself against the horse's muzzle, and the sound of a love croon came up to her ears. The horse laid back his ears and playfully pretended to bite.
"You no 'count ole hayburner, just you
