Under the great pines he sped and round the bulging wall.

At the rocky incline leading to the creek she pulled the fiery animal to a trot.

How low and clear the water! As Carley forded it fresh cool drops splashed into her face.

Again she spurred her mount and again trees and walls rushed by.

Up and down the yellow bits of trail--on over the brown mats of pine needles--until there in the sunlight shone the little gray log cabin with a tall form standing in the door.