At first Golden Eagle raced recklessly from point to point.  And so long as this lasted his would-be captors could do little but endeavor to “head” him from one to the other, in the hope of getting him within range of the rope.  Then he seemed suddenly to change his mind, and, with a quick double, gallop towards the side of the great chasm.  A cry of delight escaped the girl as she saw this.  The horse was making for the mouth of a small cavern which had been boarded over, and, judging by the door and window in the woodwork, had evidently been used as a dwelling or a stable.  It was the same instinct which led him to this place that had caused the horse to remain for two years the solitary tenant of the valley.  The girl understood, and drew her companion’s attention.  The capture at once became easy.  Keeping clear of the cave they cautiously herded their quarry towards it.  Golden Eagle was docile enough until he reached the, to him, familiar door.  Then, when he found that his pursuers still continued to press in upon him, he took alarm, and, throwing up his head, with a wild, defiant snort he made a bolt for the open.

Instantly two lariats whirled through the air towards the crested neck.  One missed its mark, but the other fell, true as a gun-shot over the small, thoroughbred head.  It was Jacky’s rope which had found its mark.  A hitch round the horn of her saddle, and her horse threw himself back with her forefeet braced, and faced the captive.  Then the rope tightened with a jerk which taxed its rawhide strands to their utmost.  Instantly Golden Eagle, after two years’ freedom, stood still; he knew that once more he must return to captivity.

CHAPTER VIII

TOLD IN BAD MAN’S HOLLOW

Jacky held her treasure fast.  The choking grip of the running noose quieted Golden Eagle into perfect docility.  Bunning-Ford was off his horse in a moment.  Approaching the primitive dwelling he forced open the crazy door.  It was a patchwork affair and swung back on a pair of hinges which lamented loudly as the accumulation of rust were disturbed.  The interior was essentially suggestive of the half-breed, and his guess at its purpose had been a shrewd one.  Part storehouse for forage, part bedroom, and part stable, it presented a squalid appearance.  The portion devoted to stable-room was far in the back; the curious apparatus which constituted the bed was placed under the window.

The man propped the door open, and then went to relieve the girl from the strain of holding her captive.  Seizing the lariat he gripped it tightly and proceeded to pass slowly, hand over hand, towards the beautiful, wild-eyed chestnut.  Golden Eagle seemed to understand, for, presently, the tension of the rope relaxed.  For a moment the animal looked fearfully around and snorted, then, as “Lord” Bill determinedly attempted to lead him, he threw himself backward.  His rebellion lasted but for an instant, for, presently, drooping his proud head as though in token of submission, he followed his captor quietly into the stable which had always been his.