He led her down the porch to the door of her room, and as he pushed it open he whispered, “I will save you, Collie, an’ Wils, an’ the old man you call dad!”

Then he returned to the silent group in the yard.

“Jim, if I answer fer Wils Moore bein’ in Kremmlin’ the day you say, will you leave him with me?”

“Wal, I shore will, Wade,” replied Burley, heartily.

“I object to that,” interposed Jack Belllounds, stridently.  “He confessed.  He’s got to go to jail.”

“Wal, my hot-tempered young fellar, thar ain’t any jail nearer ’n Denver.  Did you know that?” returned Burley, with his dry, grim humor.  “Moore’s under arrest.  An’ he’ll be as well off hyar with Wade as with me in Kremmlin’, an’ a damn sight happier.”

The cowboy had mounted, and Wade walked beside him as he started homeward.  They had not progressed far when Wade’s keen ears caught the words, “Say, Belllounds, I got it figgered thet you an’ your son don’t savvy this fellar Wade.”

“Wal, I reckon not,” replied the old rancher.

And his son let out a peal of laughter, bitter and scornful and unsatisfied.

CHAPTER XVII

Gore Peak was the highest point of the black range that extended for miles westward from Buffalo Park.  It was a rounded dome, covered with timber and visible as a landmark from the surrounding country.  All along the eastern slope of that range an unbroken forest of spruce and pine spread down to the edge of the valley.  This valley narrowed toward its source, which was Buffalo Park.  A few well-beaten trails crossed that country, one following Red Brook down to Kremmling; another crossing from the Park to White Slides; and another going over the divide down to Elgeria.  The only well-known trail leading to Gore Peak was a branch-off from the valley, and it went round to the south and more accessible side of the mountain.

All that immense slope of timbered ridges, benches, ravines, and swales west of Buffalo Park was exceedingly wild and rough country.  Here the buffalo took to cover from hunters, and were safe until they ventured forth into the parks again.  Elk and deer and bear made this forest their home.

Bent Wade, hunter now for bigger game than wild beasts of the range, left his horse at Lewis’s cabin and penetrated the dense forest alone, like a deer-stalker or an Indian in his movements.  Lewis had acted as scout for Wade, and had ridden furiously down to Sage Valley with news of the rustlers.  Wade had accompanied him back to Buffalo Park that night, riding in the dark.  There were urgent reasons for speed.  Jack Belllounds had ridden to Kremmling, and the hunter did not believe he would return by the road he had taken.