"Aren't your nerves ever shaken? Aren't you ever afraid?" she asked.
Tex smiled: "Nerve ain't in not bein' afraid," he answered evasively,
"but in not lettin' folks know when you're afraid."
Another gate was opened, and as they passed around the scrub-capped
spur of a ridge that projected into the widening valley, the girl drew
her horse up sharply and pointed ahead.
"Oh! A little lake!" she cried enthusiastically. "See how the
moonlight shimmers on the tiny waves."
Heavy and low from the westward came an ominous growl of thunder.
"Yes. An' there'll be somethin' besides moonlight a-shimmerin' around
here directly. That ain't exactly a lake. It's Johnson's irrigation
reservoir. If we could get about ten miles below here before the storm
hits, we can hole up in a rock cave 'til she blows over. The creek
valley narrows down to a canyon where it cuts through the last ridge of
mountains.
"Hit 'er up a little, Bat. We'll try an' make the canyon!"
A flash of lightning illumined the valley, and glancing upward, Alice
saw that the mass of black clouds was almost overhead. The horses were
forced into a run as the hills reverberated to the mighty roll of the
thunder. They were following a well-defined bridle trail and scarcely
slackened their pace as they splashed in and out of the water where the
trail crossed and recrossed the creek.
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