She sat up, breathing fast, and ran to her father’s room.  The bed had not been slept in; and she emerged from the room, her face pallid with resolution.

Running to the outside door she swung it open and looked out.  Far out upon the clear, moonlit sweep of plain stretching toward Willets, she saw the shadowy figures of two horsemen.

Moving swiftly, she went to the corral, caught her pony, saddled it, threw on a bridle, mounted and rode after the two horsemen, urging the pony to its best efforts.

The speed at which the pony traveled did not equal the pace of the animals ahead of her, however, and she steadily lost ground, though the night was so clear that she did not lose sight of the figures in front of her until they reached the shadows of Willets’ buildings.  She did lose them there, though, and when she rode down the dimly lighted street she could see no sign of them.

There was no one about, and she rode back and forth on the street, searching for Hamlin’s horse, which would give her a clue to Hamlin’s whereabouts.  And at last, peering into a vacant space between two buildings she saw Hamlin’s horse, and another, hitched to a rail near an outside stairway.

She got off the pony, threw the reins over its head and ran around to the front of the building, into the light of some oil-lamps that stabbed the semi-gloom of the street.

The building was occupied by the Wolf Saloon.  She knew that, and it was that knowledge that caused her to hesitate as she stood in front of it.  But her father was in there, she was certain.  She had recognized the horse that had been hitched close to her father’s as one that Singleton had ridden to the Hamlin cabin on several of his visits, and the cold determination that had seized her at last gave her courage to swing the front door of the saloon open.  She hesitated on the threshold, white, shaking with dread, almost afraid, now that she had come this far, to face the terrible men she knew she would find inside.  The ill-fame of the place was notorious.

But while she hesitated, she heard her father’s voice—­a sound that drove her to instant action, for it was high-pitched, and carried a note of anger.

She went inside, then, no longer thinking of herself; her heart a throb with concern, courage of a high order sustaining her.  She pushed the outside door open, burst through the double-swing door that screened the barroom from the street, and stood in the front of the room blinking at the lights.

The room was full of men—­she did not know how many.  They made a great blur in front of her; and it seemed to her that all their faces were turned to her.  She had a flashing view of a multitude of inquiring eyes; she noted the thick haze that hung over the room; her nostrils were assailed by mingled odors that were nauseating.  The flashing glance showed her the long bar, a cluster of lights overhead; card tables; a low ceiling, and a stairway leading from the barroom to a platform.