Alice saw that the Texan's face
was drawn into a tense, puzzled frown. A sudden fear gripped her
heart. She leaned forward and the words fairly shrieked from her lips.
"It's the reservoir!"
The Texan whirled to face the others whose horses had crowded close and
stood with drooping heads.
"The reservoir's let go!" he shouted, and pointed into the grey wall of
water at right angles to their course. "Ride! Ride like hell an' save
yourselves! I'll look after her!" The next instant he whirled his
horse against the girl's.
"Ride straight ahead!" he roared. "Give him his head an' hang on!
I'll stay at his flank, an' if you go down we'll take a chance
together!"
Slipping the quirt from the horn of his saddle the cowboy brought it
down across her horse's flank and the animal shot away straight into
the opaque grey wall. Alice gave the horse a loose rein, set her lips,
and gripped the horn of her saddle as the brute plunged on.
The valley was not wide. They had reached a point where its sides
narrowed to form the mouth of the canyon. The pound of the horse's
feet was lost in the titanic bombilation of the elements--the incessant
crash and rumble of thunder and the ever increasing roar of rushing
waters. At every jump the girl expected her frantic horse to go down,
yet she was conscious of no feeling of fear.
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