The Furnace of Gold | Page 6

back.
"Our stable chamberlain has slipped a cog on the outfits for ladies
recently," said Van apologetically, "but I reckon these will have to do."
Beth looked the two mounts over uncritically. They seemed to be
equally matched, as to general characteristics, since neither appeared
either strong or plump. She said:
"Shall we ride very far?"
"No, just a pleasant little jog," replied the horseman. "They call it forty
miles to Goldite by the ridge, but it isn't an inch over thirty."
Thirty miles!--over the mountains!--with an unknown man and her
maid! Beth suppressed a gasp of despair and astonishment, not to
mention trepidation, by making an effort that verged upon the heroic.
"But we--we can never arrive in Goldite tonight!" she said. "We can't
expect to, can we?"
"It takes more than that to kill these bronchos," Van cheerfully assured
her. "I can only guarantee that the horses will make it--by sunset."
Beth flushed. He evidently entertained a very poor notion of her
horsemanship. Her pride was aroused. She would show him
something--at least that no horse could make this journey without her!
"Thank you," she said, and advancing to the roan she addressed herself
to Dave. "Will you please help me up. Mr. Van may assist my maid."
Dave grinned and performed his offices as best he could, which was

strongly, if not with grace. Van shook a threatening fist, behind his
captive's back. He had meant to take this honor to himself.
Fairly tossing the greatly delighted little Elsa to the seat on the bay, he
mounted his own sturdy animal and immediately started for the canyon
below, leaving Beth and her maid to trail behind.
The girl's heart all but failed her. Whither were they going?--and
towards what Fate? What could be the outcome of a journey like this,
undertaken so blindly, with no chance for resistance? The horseman
had stubbornly refused a reply to her question; he was calmly riding off
before them now with the utmost indifference to her comfort. There
was nothing to do but to follow, and resign herself to--the Lord alone
knew what. The little roan mare, indeed, required no urging; she was
tugging at the bit to be off. With one last look of helplessness at the
station and Dave--who someway bore the hint of a fatherly air upon
him--she charged her nerves with all possible resolution and rode on
after her leader.
Elsa permitted her broncho to trudge at the tail of the column. She
dared to cast one shy, disconcerting little glance at Dave--and he
suddenly felt he would burst into flame and consume himself utterly to
ashes.
The great canyon yawned prodigiously where its rock gates stood open
to grant the party admission to the sanctum of the hills. Sheer granite
walls, austere and frowning, rose in sculptured immensity on either side,
but the trail under foot was scored between some scattered wild-peach
shrubs, interspersed with occasional bright-green clumps of manzanita.
The air was redolent of warmth and fragrance that might with fitness
have advertised the presence in the hills of some glorified goddess of
love--some lofty, invisible goddess, guarded by her mountain snows,
yet still too languorous and voluptuous to pass without at least trailing
on the summery air the breath that exhaled from her being. It was all a
delight, despite vague alarms, and the promise ahead was inviting.
Van continued straight onward, with never so much as a turn of his
head, to the horses in the rear. He seemed to have quite forgotten the

two half-frightened women in his wake. Beth had ample opportunity
for observing again the look of strength and grace upon him. However,
she found her attention very much divided between tumultuous joyance
in the mountain grandeur, bathed in the marvelously life-exciting air,
and concern for the outcome of the day. If a faint suggestion of pique at
the manner in which the horseman ignored her presence crept
subconsciously into all her meditations, she did not confess it to
herself.
Elsa's horrid little habit of accepting anything and everything with the
most irresponsible complacency rendered the situation aggravating. It
was so utterly impossible to discuss with such a being even such of the
morning's developments as the relationship of mistress and maid might
otherwise have permitted.
A mile beyond the mouth of the canyon the slight ascent was ended, the
chasm widened, rough slopes succeeded the granite walls, and a
charming little valley, emerald green and dotted with groups of quaking
aspen trees, stretched far towards the wooded mountain barriers,
looming hugely ahead. It was like a dainty lake of grass, abundantly
supplied with little islands.
The sheer enchantment of it, bathed as it was in sun-gold, and sheltered
by prodigious, snow-capped summits, so intensely white against the
intensity of azure, aroused